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THE 


SACRED  SCRIPTURES 


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PAGAN   MYTHOLOGY: 


AN   INAUGURAL   ADDRESS 


Delivered  at  Eastern,  Pennsylvania,  July  28,  1851. 


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Rev.    GEORGE    BURRO  WES, 

PB0FES8OR   OF   LANGUAGES   IN   LAFAYETTE   COLLEGE. 


PUBLISHED  Br  THE  BOARD   OF  TRUSTEES. 


Jpljilabelpljia : 


WM.  S.  MARTIEN,  144  CHESTNUT  STREET. 
1851. 


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THE 


SACRED  SCRIPTURES 


AND 


PAGAN   MYTHOLOGY: 


AN   INAUGURAL   ADDRESS 


Delivered  at  Easton,  Pennsylvania,  July  23,  1851. 


Rev.    GEORGEBURROWES 

PROFESSOR  OF  LANGUAGES  IN  LAFAYETTE  COLLEGE. 


PUBLISHED  BY  THE  BOARD   OF  TRUSTEES. 


JpI)ilaMpl)ict: 


WM.  S.  MARTIEN,  144  CHESTNUT  STREET. 
1851. 


A  D  D  E  E  S  S . 


Persons  of  piety,  admitting  the  importance  of  classical  pur- 
suits, fail  not  unfrequently  to  notice  the  bearing  had  on  each 
other  by  the  religious  systems,  and  by  the  literature  of  Chris- 
tianity and  paganism.  The  present  seems  a  fit  time  for 
inquiring,  what  place  the  Sacred  Scriptures  should  hold  among 
classical  studies — what  advantage  is  derived  from  a  knowledge 
of  pagan  mythology,  especially  by  the  Christian  minister.  The 
fact  seems  now  not  a  little  surprising  that,  for  so  many  ages, 
man  should  have  fallen  into  such  errors  concerning  the  solar 
system  and  the  starry  heavens,  satisfied,  even  after  the  true 
theory  had  been  suggested  by  the  sage  of  Crotona,  to  dream, 
among  other  fancies  more  astray  from  truth,  that  our  earth  is 
the  centre  of  the  revolutions  of  all  worlds.  Nor  is  the  day  dis- 
tant when  there  will  be  greater  wonder  that  the  word  of  God 
could  ever  have  been  to  such  an  extent  crowded  from  courses  of 
education — when  this  volume  will  be  universally  received  as  the 
centre  of  every  course  of  training,  literary  or  otherwise,  for  the 
young ;  and  all  other  volumes,  all  other  studies,  however  impor- 
tant, will  be  viewed  as  secondaries,  revolving  in  established 
tracks  around  this  central  sun.  The  right-hearted  classical 
scholar  will  feel  the  Bible  furnishes  the  only  clew  for  thread- 
ing the  labyrinth  of  heathen  antiquity,  and  discovering  the 
truth  hid  in  the  beautiful  fictions  of  mythology ;  the  intelligent 
student  of  the  Scriptures  will  be  sensible  of  the  importance  of 
acquaintance  with  those  works  of  genius,  for  disciplining  the 
mind  and  forming  the  taste — still  further  for  enabling  him  to 
understand  the  system  of  error  and  idolatry  from  which  the 
Christian  religion  was  intended  to  give  us  deliverance  by 
counteracting  its  influence  and  accomplishing  its  overthrow. 
The  inquiries  here  suggested  we  shall  be  able  to  answer  by 


calling  to  mind  whence  sprung  the  peculiar  doctrines,  cere- 
monies, and  legends  prevailing  in  the  pagan  world.  Far  indeed 
are  those  idolatrous  systems,  with  their  incongruous  mixture  of 
beauties  and  abominations,  from  taking  their  peculiar  develop- 
ment without  the  action  of  some  cause  and  controling  laws. 
There  is  a  marvellous  likeness  among  the  various  theological 
notions  of  pagan  nations,  in  different  ages,  no  less  than  in 
different  countries — the  present  worship  of  idolatrous  India 
showing  features  kindred  to  those  of  ancient  heathendom,  and 
proving  that  both  sprung,  as  certainly  as  did  those  of  Greece 
and  Rome,  from  a  common  origin,  under  the  action  of  common 
principles  in  the  corrupt  nature  of  man. 

Formed  for  studying  the  character  of  God,  and  for  his  wor- 
ship, the  soul  when  broken  off  from  this  by  sin,  must  have 
something  to  love  and  worship  in  place  of  the  Creator.  There 
is  in  the  heart  a  natural  propensity  to  cherish  the  memory 
of  benefactors;  and  when  not  controlled  by  grace,  the  mind 
even  in  Christian  lands,  hoards  with  almost  idolatrous  reve- 
rence the  remembrance  of  loved  ones  numbered  with  the 
dead.  There  are  countries  where  the  principle  of  the  house- 
hold gods  of  the  ancients,  their  Lares  and  Penates,  still 
prevails,  and  the  memory  of  deceased  ancestors  is  cherished 
by  religious  festivals  and  pious  duties.  Strong  as  is  this 
principle  by  nature,  it  acts  with  far  more  vigour  when  those 
parents  have  been  distinguished  actors  in  events  of  great 
importance  and  have  laid  the  foundation  of  eminent  blessings 
for  posterity.  Now,  while  sin  keeps  up  in  the  soul  an  inve- 
terate tendency  to  fall  away  from  God,  this  feeling  prompts 
the  mind,  thus  sinking  into  the  abyss  of  guilt  and  darkness, 
to  cling  with  a  reverence  soon  running  into  worship,  to 
those  who,  while  infinitely  inferior  to  God,  are  superior  to 
us  by  having  been  the  means  of  giving  us  being.  On  them, 
is  gradually  lavished  the  worship  due  to  Jehovah.  We  can 
hardly  conceive  with  what  power  this  propensity  must  have  ope- 
rated during  the  first  ages  of  the  world,  in  reference  to  those 
ancestors  who  had  shared  in  the  expulsion  from  Eden,  and  in 


the  salvation  of  mankind  at  the  flood.  Raising  their  forefathers 
to  the  rank  of  venerated  beings  of  a  higher  sphere,  and  then  to 
the  grade  of  deified  heroes,  the  soul  with  grasp  broken  loose 
from  the  true  God,  gathered  the  tendrils  of  its  thoughts  and 
affections  around  these,  incorporating  with  the  purity  of  the 
original  truth  the  suggestions  arising  from  time  to  time  from 
the  deepening  corruptions  of  the  heart. 

When  man  fell,  and  promise  was  given  of  restoration  by 
a  Redeemer,  there  was  a  necessity  for  a  new  way  of  approach- 
ing God,  and  for  a  mode  of  worship  different  from  that  had 
by  our  first  parents  worshipping  in  Eden.  This  new  way 
then,  showing  the  first  germ  of  what  was  afterwards  fully 
unfolded  in  Jesus  Christ,  had  its  ritual  and  ceremonies,  all 
suited  to  shadow  forth  in  an  incipient  state  the  truths  after- 
wards incorporated  in  the  Levitical  dipensation,  and  reaching 
a  perfect  development  in  the  "last  days"  of  the  gospel. 
The  different  nations  of  the  world,  diverging  from  the  parent 
stock  of  a  single  family,  carried  with  them  the  knowledge  of 
this  primitive  patriarchal  worship;  and  as  generation  after 
generation  departed  from  the  true  faith,  their  religion  would 
take  the  form  of  a  system  combining  a  mixture  of  truth 
and  error,  wherein  traces  would  appear  more  and  more  faint 
with  each  passing  age,  of  the  truths  and  ceremonies  of  the 
worship  of  the  true  God,  blended  with  such  errors  as 
spring  from  raising  men  to  the  rank  of  beings  claiming 
divine  reverence,  and  incorporating  with  the  worship  of  these 
the  worship  of  the  elements  and  other  works  of  the  one  living 
Creator.  The  aboriginal  gods  of  the  pagans  were  deified  mor- 
tals.    According  to  Hesiod,* 

When  o'er  those  blessed  ones  of  the  golden  age, 
Gathered  death's  evening  shades,  their  souls  made  free 
Demons  became,  still  hovering  o'er  the  world, 
Kindly  disposed,  from  ill  defending,  guards 
Of  mortals  frail,  and  with  the  kingly  power 
Of  granting  wealth,  upholding  righteous  laws. 

Without  mentioning  Cicero,  Plutarch,  and  Augustine,  we 
find  the  most  ancient  writer  after  Moses,  the  Phoenician   known 

*  Op.  et  Die.  107. 


6 

through  his  translator.  Philo,  advancing  the  same  opinion. 
Such  being  the  fact,  the  early  gods  will  be  found  those  who 
flourished  in  the  two  golden  ages  of  the  pagan  mythology, 
periods  agreeing  with  the  first  creation  of  our  race,  and  with 
the  time  immediately  after  the  deluge — the  same  persons 
deified  of  whom  we  have  the  true  account,  separated  from 
all  fable,  only  in  the  Scriptures.  The  leading  deities  were 
the  patriarchs  with  their  three  sons;  and  from  these,  not 
from  any  idea  had  of  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity,  came  the 
famous  triads  of  the  heathen.  The  nature  of  their  festivals 
and  sacrifices  shows  more  clearly  than  the  testimony  of  ancient 
writers  the  sameness  of  a  deity  among  pagan  nations.  The 
names  Phoebus,  Serapis,  Osiris,  Typhon,  Mithras,  Amnion, 
Adonis,  Bacchus,  Dionysus,  Liber,  Dis,  Pluto,  Pan,  Zeus, 
Jupiter,  are  different  names  of  the  same  deity. 

A  favourite  emblem  through  which  God  has  manifested  his 
character  to  man,  is  fire.  The  pillar  of  fire  was  the  centre 
of  the  Mosaic  ritual  and  the  Jewish  Theocracy.  Tracing  it 
back  to  the  early  ages  of  the  patriarchal  church,  we  find  its 
first  manifestation  in  the  flaming  sword  of  Eden.  This,  with 
the  cherubim,  sacrifices,  and  other  things  afterwards  incor- 
porated with  additional  rites  in  the  Levitical  services,  was 
one  of  the  appointments  of  God,  when  giving  our  race  a  new 
form  of  worship  under  the  plan  of  redemption.  "When  the 
descendants  of  Adam,  "going  out  from  the  presence  of  the 
Lord,  set  up  a  worship  of  their  own  by  adulterating  with 
their  own  errors  the  true  system  in  which  they  had  been 
reared,  they  would  naturally  seek  for  something  which  might 
hold  in  their  idolatry  the  place  held  in  the  true  religion  by 
the  Shechinah.  This  the  sun  most  nearly  resembled,  and 
furnished,  therefore,  a  not  inappropriate  substitute.  Hence 
began  the  worship  of  the  heavenly  bodies.  The  members  of 
the  patriarchal  church,  equally  with  the  Jews  in  later  ages, 
felt  that  God  dwelt  in  the  pillar  of  fire;  and  these  apostates 
naturally  located  their  deified  ancestors  in  the  sun  and  other 
heavenly   bodies,   as    their    place  of  eternal    abode.     In    this 


mode  did  sacrifices,  and  those  strange  symbolical  figures, 
corruptions  of  the  cherubim,  with  other  rites  and  legends, 
strange  distortions  of  Scripture  facts,  gain  prevalence  through- 
out the  heathen  world.  Paganism  is  patriarchism  in  caricature 
or  masquerade.  All  the  religions  of  heathenism  are  adultera- 
tions of  the  truths  of  revelation  with  the  errors  of  man's 
sinful  heart — of  the  truths  which  were  first  given  to  mankind 
during  the  patriarchal  church  and  afterwards  committed  to 
writing  in  the  Levitical  and  Christian  dispensations. 

Now  it  has  been  settled  by  the  practice  of  the  most  polished 
Christian  nations  for  ages,  that  the  study  of  pagan  literature 
should  constitute  an  important  part  of  a  finished  education. 
The  necessity,  the  grounds  for  this,  we  need  not  now  examine. 
No  argument  is  necessary  for  showing  the  importance  of  an 
acquaintance  with  the  poetry,  the  history,  the  eloquence,  the 
philosophy  of  Greece  and  Rome.  He  who  controls  the  des- 
tinies of  man,  made  the  Jews  the  depositaries  of  the  moral 
and  religious  instructions  for  saving  our  race.  Those  nations 
he  used  as  instruments  for  revealing  the  truths  intended  for 
training  and  polishing  the  intellect;  to  the  latter  we  go  for 
cultivating  the  heart,  to  the  former  for  training  the  mind. 
The  literature  of  these  different  nations  should  not  be  looked 
upon  as  antagonistic,  one  of  which  should  be  studied,  and 
the  other  neglected ;  but  as  parts  of  the  one  system  appointed 
by  the  Creator  for  training  man  to  be  entirely  a  man,  for 
developing  his  intellect  and  his  heart,  and  thus  bringing  forth 
the  most  perfect  specimen  of  manhood.  Neither  the  most 
cultivated  pagan  nor  the  noblest  Jew  could  furnish  the  finest 
development  of  human  nature;  one  wanted  the  action  of  an 
element  enjoyed  by  the  other  alone;  and  not  till  man  possesses 
the  advantages  had  from  both  these  channels  of  learning, 
does  humanity  reach  its  noblest  elevation — such  as  could 
never  be  reached  in  heathenism,  such  as  was  never  known 
under  Judaism  alone,  such  as  is  beheld  in  the  son  of  Israel 
who  enjoyed  the  benefits  springing  from  a  knowledge  of  clas- 
sical literature,  the  Apostle  Paul. 


But  Grecian  antiquity,  and  this  is  the  parent  of  Roman 
antiquity,  cannot  be  understood  without  acquaintance  "with 
Grecian  religion.  "It  begins,"  says  Grote,  "with  gods,  and 
it  ends  with  historical  men ;  the  former  being  recognized  not 
simply  as  gods,  but  as  primitive  ancestors,  and  connected 
with  the  latter  by  a  long  mythical  genealogy,  partly  heroic 
and  partly  human."  For  wise  reasons  those  classical  trea- 
sures are  found  imbedded  in  strata  of  religious  errors,  wherein 
remains  not  a  single  discernible  remnant  of  truth  concerning 
the  living  God.  So  perfectly  is  this  the  case,  that  a  step 
cannot  be  taken  without  the  necessity  of  separating  truth 
from  error.  Herein  the  mind  has  exercise  from  earliest 
years  in  that  which  is  so  essential  and  unavoidable  a  duty 
through  life,  the  sifting  of  truth  from  error.  With  Milton 
"  I  cannot  praise  a  fugitive  and  cloistered  virtue  unexercised 
and  unbreathed,  that  never  sallies  out  and  sees  her  adver- 
sary, but  slinks  out  of  the  race  where  that  immortal  garland 
is  to  be  run  for,  not  without  dust  and  heat.  Assuredly  we 
bring  not  innocence  into  the  world;  we  bring  impurity  much 
rather ;  that  which  purines  us  is  trial,  and  trial  is  by  what  is 
contrary;  which  was  the  reason  why  our  sage  and  serious 
poet  Spencer — whom  I  dare  be  known  to  think  a  better 
teacher  than  Scotus  or  Aquinas — describing  true  temperance 
under  the  person  of  Guion,  brings  him  in  with  his  palmer 
through  the  cave  of  Mammon,  and  the  bower  of  earthly 
bliss,  that  he  might  see  and  know,  and  yet  abstain.  The 
knowledge  and  survey  of  vice  is  in  this  world  necessary  to 
the  constituting  of  human  virtue,  and  the  scanning  of  error 
to  the  confirmation  of  truth." 

How  must  an  understanding  be  got  of  this  pagan  religion  ? 
Originating  in  the  way  already  shown,  this  corrupt  theology 
cannot  be  thoroughly  understood  without  the  Holy  Scriptures. 
Those  various  systems  as  formerly  existing  in  Chaldea,  Egypt, 
Syria,  Greece,  and  Rome,  as  now  existing  in  India,  have  all 
a  likeness,  showing  that  they  sprung  from  a  common  source, 
and  hardly  differing  more  than  the  races  of  men  descended 


9 

from  the  two  exiles  of  Eden.  The  curious  mind,  anxious  for 
a  knowledge  of  the  theological  systems  which  affected  so 
deeply  the  intellectual  and  political  condition  of  the  States 
of  antiquity,  is  not  satisfied  with  the  literature  and  fictions 
of  their  mythology,  however  entertaining  and  beautiful,  but 
seeks  to  know  how  those  theories  were  formed,  whence  they 
sprung.  Feeling  those  fables  have  been  woven  by  the  imagi- 
nation, he  is  aware  the  imagination  cannot  originate  new 
forms  or  beings,  can  do  nothing  more  than  bring  into  new 
combinations  ideas  already  acquired,  and  hence  must  have 
had  some  materials  wherewith  to  start  and  on  which  to  work. 
That  gorgeous  mass  of  absurdity,  error,  and  death,  was  for 
ages  accumulating  and  taking  its  present  form;  the  starting 
point  was  the  time  when  our  race  apostatized  from  God,  and 
began  to  form  for  themselves  a  religion.  This  period  is  known 
to  us  only  through  the  Scriptures.  They  give,  free  from  all 
error,  from  all  drapery  of  fancy,  pure,  simple,  and  beautiful 
as  a  statue  of  Parian  marble,  the  truths  of  religion  from 
which  man  fell,  and  the  facts  connected  with  the  personages 
whom  the  darkening  mind  of  man  first  raised  to  the  pedestal 
from  which  he  had  dethroned  the  true  God.  The  classical 
student  finds  himself  in  a  region  of  the  dead,  surrounded  with 
wonders,  with  mysteries,  and  with  beauties — with  mythological 
personages  named  divinities,  crowding  around  like  mummies 
in  the  receptacles  of  Egypt's  dead: — he  feels  these  things, 
however  strange  their  appearance  as  embalmed  in  numerous 
folds  of  allegory,  were  once  living  beings;  he  would  be 
acquainted  with  their  origin  and  history.  All  is  darkness  and 
confusion,  until  the  Scriptures  come  and  set  before  him  those 
beings  unwrapped,  separated  from  all  adhesion  of  error,  in  the 
simplicity  of  their  original  life.  The  hieroglyphics  every 
where  written  on  this  pantheon,  the  Bible  alone  enables  him 
to  decipher.  Like  the  regions  to  which  JEneas  was  descending, 
where  gloom  and  unearthly  sights  and  sounds  were  commingled 
with  fields  of  the  blessed  and  the  shades  of  the  glorious  dead, 
to  the  secrets  of  which  this  pious  hero  could   not  penetrate 


10 

without  a  bough  broken  from  a  sacred  tree — the  domains  of 
pagan  mythology  are  diversified  realms  of  ignorance,  terror, 
and  death,  "wherein  expand  before  the  imagination  scenes  more 
beauteous  than  the  Elysian  fields,  but  not  capable  of  being  seen 
with  satisfaction  and  safety  without  the  mysterious  branch 
which  can  be  plucked  only  from  a  single  sacred  tree  on  earth, 
that  tree  the  Sacred  Scriptures.  In  this  no  less  than  every 
other  exploration  among  the  ruins  of  sin  on  earth,  the  divine 
word  alone  is  a  lamp  unto  our  feet,  and  a  light  unto  our  path. 
In  studying  the  idolatry  of  the  world, 

"  Through  many  a  dark  and  dreary  vale 
We  pass,  and  many  a  region  dolorous, 
O'er  many  a  frozen,  many  a  fiery  Alp, 
Rocks,  caves,  lakes,  fens,  bogs,  dens,  and  shades  of  death 
Where  all  life  dies,  death  lives,  and  nature  breeds 
Perverse,  all  monstrous,  all  prodigious  things, 
Gorgons  and  Hydras,  and  Chimeras  dire;" — 

with  the  wise  men  of  the  east  ending  their  wanderings  with 
gold  and  frankincense  offered  at  the  feet  of  Jesus,  in  all  these 
searches  for  truth  the  light  of  revelation  is  our  guiding  star. 

The  philosophy  of  mythology  cannot  be  satisfactorily  touched 
without  the  Scriptures.  The  food,  the  pabulum  of  the  mind  is 
truth.  There  is  a  pleasure  in  studying  the  pagan  theology 
as  a  fact  in  the  history  of  error;  there  is  additional  satisfaction 
and  instruction  in  reaching  the  truth  overlaid  by  this  mass  of 
error.  With  what  anxiety  had  search  been  made  for  the  age, 
the  builders,  the  design  of  the  pyramids.  How  eagerly  was  the 
stone  studied  and  prized  which  gave  the  clew  to  the  hieroglyphics 
of  Egypt.  He  who  would  give  himself  to  the  study  of  those 
emblems,  and  throw  away  the  knowledge  furnished  by  the 
key,  would  be  considered  as  wanting  sound  mind.  Here  is 
the  remarkable  structure  of  error  which,  under  the  name  of 
paganism,  has  existed  down  to  the  present  time  over  the  largest 
portion  of  mankind  —  which  is  deeply  interwoven  with  the 
politics  and  literature  of  the  classic  nations  that  have  had  such 
influence  on  the  whole  civilized  world ;  and  what  shall  be  said 
of  studying  this  system  without  applying  the  light  thrown 
thereon  by  the  Scriptures  ? 


11 

Man  was  formed  for  the  glory  of  God  by  pursuing  truth, 
keeping  his  ways,  and,  with  enlightened  love,  enjoying  what 
is  beauteous  in  the  works  of  the  Creator.  Before  him  was 
thrown  open  the  universe  with  its  realms  of  beauty,  and 
truth  expanding  into  what  might  be  called  immensity,  adapted 
to  the  faculties  then  existing,  and  thereafter  developing  in  the 
soul  for  receiving  pleasure  from  the  contemplation  and  showing 
forth  Jehovah's  praise.  By  sin,  our  race  was  cut  off  from  these 
numberless  springs  of  enjoyment,  and  confined  to  the  gloom 
and  error  of  this  dark  earth,  our  prison,  with  few  rays  of  light 
and  beauty,  save  the  gleams  occasionally  caught  through  the 
bars  of  our  dungeon.  The  living  world  of  angels,  spiritual 
beings,  and  material  wonders,  lies  hid  from  view  by  walls 
impassible.  Having  sunk  to  this  confinement,  with  all  the 
faculties  of  our  first  creation,  we  have  remaining  in  the  soul 
the  thirst  for  truth,  and  a  thirst  no  less  strong  for  what  is 
beautiful.  Reason  feeds  on  truth;  the  imagination  feeds  on 
what  is  beautiful  in  truth,  however  variously  expressed  in 
the  works  of  God.  Had  we  never  sinned — enjoying  the  free- 
dom of  the  universe,  privileged  and  welcomed  every  where, 
we  would  have  gratified  this  power  to  the  utmost  by  the 
boundless  diversity  of  truth,  beauty,  and  glory,  shown  in  the 
manifestations  of  the  Godhead.  Cast  down,  however,  from 
our  first  estate,  with  mind  enfeebled,  but  faculties  unchanged, 
in  lack  of  aliment  of  which  the  soul  has  been  deprived  by 
sin,  we  grope  amid  the  darkness  of  our  prison  in  search  of 
what  is  true  and  beautiful  for  satisfying  the  craving  of  these 
powers — a  craving  never  ceasing,  never  satiated,  the  purest, 
strongest  desire  of  our  nature,  lying  as  the  main-spring  of 
the  machinery  of  our  being,  so  intense  as  to  receive  with 
gladness  the  dreams  of  fancy,  when  the  massive  truths  of 
God's  substantial  wisdom  is  withheld.  What  are  the  creations 
of  poetry  but  efforts  for  satisfying  these  faculties  with  truth 
invested  in  beauty?  Sin  has  shut  us  out  from  worlds  of  glory, 
and  has  stripped  this  world  of  much  original  splendour. 
Poetry,  the  fine  arts,  try  to  supply  the  want,  to  create  new 


12 

worlds,  to  invest  scenes,  persons,  doings  here,  with  attractive- 
ness and  beauty  greater  than  seen  in  nature. 

When  left  for  ages  to  grope  around  the  walls  of  his  prison, 
man  lingered  restless  and  unsatisfied  with  the  creations  of 
genius,  with  the  deductions  of  philosophy,  God  made  a  new 
revelation  in  the  person  of  his  Son,  and  embodied  in  the  Scrip- 
tures truths  designed  to  prepare  us  for  leaving  this  dungeon, 
and  mingling  freely  with  the  worlds  from  which  we  are  excluded. 
In  heaven  the  soul  will  enjoy  the  same  truths,  save  in  greater 
richness,  which  were  the  joy  of  Eden,  which  are  now  the 
delight  of  the  sanctified  spirit.  Here,  in  the  word  of  God,  are 
those  truths  from  which  the  mind  and  imagination  of  man 
diverged  in  wandering  into  the  wilderness  of  pagan  error ;  here 
are  the  truths  in  a  dawning  state  with  which  the  soul  will  be 
delighted  in  the  sinless  heavens  and  earth  of  the  future. 
Hence  in  the  Scriptures  does  the  heart  exult  to  find  in  pure 
and  heavenly  substance,  all  that  was  ever  dreamed  of  by  sage 
and  poet  in  the  ages  of  Greece  and  Rome.  Like  the  gorgeous 
scenes  in  those  interesting  dissolving  views,  their  fictions  have 
faded  into  a  landscape  filled  with  the  reality  of  truths  and 
visions  belonging  to  another  world. 

"  The  intelligible  forms  of  ancient  poets, 
The  fair  humanities  of  old  religion, 
The  power,  the  beauty,  and  the  majesty, 
That  had  their  haunts  in  dale,  or  piny  mountain, 
Or  forest,  by  slow  stream,  or  pebbly  spring, 
Or  chasms  and  watery  depths ;  all  these  have  vanished, 
They  live  no  longer  in  the  faith  of  reason :" 

they  have  given  place  to  the  revelations  of  the  Scriptures,  and 
disappeared  with  the  oracle  of  Apollo,  that  withdrew  dumb  on 
the  coming  of  Jesus.  Here,  are  found  in  fact  what  there 
existed  only  in  fiction.  Here  are  revealed  the  golden  fruits  of 
the  Hesperides  growing  on  the  tree  of  life  in  the  midst  of  the 
paradise  of  God.  Here  are  divulged  in  far  off  realms  of  a 
better  world,  islands  of  the  blessed  more  lovely  than  the 
fabled  bowers  of  Atlantis.  Here,  instead  of  the  shadowy 
wood-nymphs,  we  are  met  by  the  dazzling  hosts  seen  at 
Mahanaim,  the  innumerable  company  of  angels.     The  dream 


13 

of  an  Apollo  exiled  from  the  skies,  sojourning  on  earth  in 
human  form,  is  lost  in  the  splendour  of  the  Godhead  dwelling 
in  Him  who  wept  on  Olivet,  who  died  on  Calvary.  Here  we 
come  to  more  than  Delphi's  shades,  to  the  living  oracles  Avhere 
the  humblest  soul,  made  a  priest  to  God,  has  inspiration  from 
the  spirit  of  holiness,  and  drinks  of  purer  than  Castalian  dews. 
Here  is  heard  a  harp  transcending  that  of  Orpheus,  sweetly 
charming  hearts  petrified  by  sin,  and  drawing  them  entranced 
with  holy  affection  around  the  footsteps  of  Jesus.  The  mind 
absorbed  in  the  agonies  of  Prometheus  Bound,  finds  the  mag- 
nificent reality  in  Him,  who,  drawing  from  heaven  the  fires  of 
the  Holy  Spirit  for  giving  our  race  a  new  life  and  divine  wis- 
dom, was  chained  to  the  agonies  of  the  cross  and  bore  our  sins 
in  his  own  body  on  the  tree.  The  prevalence  of  the  mysteries 
in  the  religion  of  heathenism,  shows  the  natural  craving  of  the 
mind  for  something  which  those  services  sought,  however 
poorly,  to  supply.  Here,  this  want,  like  every  other,  is  met  by 
the  revelation  made  to  the  soul  of  the  mysteries  of  godliness, 
where  the  hierophant  is  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  the  light  breaking 
on  us  is  not  the  gleam  flashing  through  the  gloom  of  the  terrors 
seen  at  Eleusis,  but  the  day-spring  of  the  splendour  sleeping  on 
the  heavenly  hills.  Hence  did  Eusebius  say  with  truth,  "  The 
Hebrew  nation  alone  enjoyed  the  privilege  of  the  highest  grade 
of  initiation  into  the  mysteries  of  the  knowledge  of  God  the 
Creator  of  all  things,  and  of  being  instructed  in  the  practice 
of  true  piety  towards  Him."  And  to  our  revelation  from 
heaven  may  be  applied  the  spirit  of  the  words  of  the  great 
tragic  poet  of  Athens : 

Happy  is  he  whose  reverential  soul 
These  greater  mysteries  unfolded  sees, 
And  through  initiation  fills  his  life 
With  sacred  services  of  piety.  * 

The  full  advantage  springing  from  classical  studies  cannot 
be  had  without  the  Scriptures  to  ripen  the  views,  and  control 
the  habits  thus  obtained.  Therein  is  a  verging  towards  truth 
which  the  wise  men  of  the  heathen  sought,  but  never  found. 

•  Euripides,  Bac.  73. 


14 

"What  Plato  vainly  endeavoured  to  unfold  to  his  disciples  on 
the  promontory  of  Sunium,  was  made  known  to  mankind  by 
the  great  Teacher,  whose  discourse  was  heard  with  wonder  on 
the  Mount  of  Beatitudes.  The  truths  of  Scripture  are  the  new 
continent  in  the  domains  of  knowledge  which  the  philosophers 
of  antiquity,  less  successful  than  Columbus,  were  never  able  to 
find.  The  word  of  God  has  put  us  in  possession  of  that  which 
the  greatest  minds  sought  fruitlessly  for  ages.  He  who  would 
confine  his  attention  to  classical  literature  without  an  effort  or 
wish  for  adding  thereto  the  wealth  derivable  from  the  Scrip- 
tures, is  injuring  his  own  interests  in  a  way  more  foolish  than 
the  Chinese,  who  prefer  the  intellectual  and  material  products 
of  the  Celestial  Empire  as  more  valuable  by  themselves  than 
when  are  added  thereto  the  wealth  and  learning  flowing  from 
the  commerce  of  the  world.  If  the  truths  of  revelation  were 
not  discovered  by  the  mind  without  divine  aid,  how  mistaken  to 
think  we  can  start  where  they  stop  and  add  to  them  new  dis- 
coveries of  truths.  Unsettled  by  the  intoxication  of  a  false 
philosophy,  too  many  lose  sight  of  the  real  nature  of  revelation, 
and  use  its  truths  as  starting  points  for  the  mind  in  new  specu- 
lations. They  use  the  Scriptures  as  the  tree  of  life  was  used 
by  Satan  when  perching  him  there,  not  for  its  fruits,  but  for  a 
vantage-ground  in  obtaining  a  better  view;  they  climb  far  as 
these  truths  will  lift,  as  to  the  tops  of  promontories  whence  to 
take  their  flight,  like  Daedalus  with  his  waxen  wings,  over 
unknown  seas.  Divine  truth  made  alive  by  the  fires  of  the 
Spirit,  sobers  and  refines  while  enlivening  literature.  It  is  the 
element  which  is  needed  for  bringing  out  fully  the  beauty  .and 
benefit  from  profane  literature,  the  flower,  the  fruit,  the  full 
development  of  that  which  lies  wrapped  in  its  bud,  in  the 
writings  of  pagan  antiquity.  To  these  bounds  the  mind  is  per- 
mitted to  go  in  metaphysical  and  moral  investigations.  Every 
attempt  at  discovery  beyond  what  is  here  revealed,  by  effort  of 
philosophy,  falsely  so  called,  ends  in  airy  nothings,  or  in 
finding  realms  as  valueless  as  the  Antarctic  continent.  The 
corrective  of  the  pride  of  intellect  showing  itself  in  foolish 


speculations,  is  the  study  of  classical  literature  in  union  with 
the  study  of  the  Scriptures  by  head  and  heart  combined.  A 
mind  thus  trained,  made  steady  and  clarified  by  heavenly  truth 
penetrating  all  our  powers,  not  like  the  beams  of  the  wintry  sun 
on  aicicles,  but  like  the  warmth  of  summer  striking  deep  to  the 
roots  of  vegetable  life,  can  never  be  taken  captive  by  transcen- 
dental imaginings,  fine  theories  spun  from  the  brain  and  thrown 
out  to  float  in  society  an  intellectual  gossamer  as  flimsy  as  the 
threads  across  our  path  on  an  autumnal  morning. 

Flushed  with  vanity  and  the  desire  of  novelty,  the  mind  will 
dash  into  the  skies  and  airy  regions  where  such  gross  things  as 
solid  truth  are  unknown ; — where  clouds,  and  mists,  and  dim- 
ness, and  all  shadowy  things  are  floating  like  Ossian's  ghosts 
upon  the  wind,  equally  intangible  and  unsubstantial.  When 
acting  on  the  heart  as  well  as  mind,  the  Scriptures  sober 
reason;  and  imparting  a  spirit  of  enterprise  without  rashness, 
make  us  sensible  of  the  bounds  to  which  genius  using  with  skill 
the  shades  of  language,  may  advance  in  refining  the  beautiful 
and  investing  it  with  attractive  lines.  The  mind  of  Milton 
stored  with  learning  drawn  from  sacred  no  less  than  classical 
studies,  furnishes  illustrations  hereon  in  its  magnificent  crea- 
tions of  statues,  and  groups,  and  landscapes  of  solid  literary 
gold.  But  unmindful  of  its  just  strength,  unsteadied  by  the 
inspiration  drawn  from  those  living  oracles,  the  mind  tries  to 
spin  out  theories  for  beautifying  beauty,  for  sublimating  thoughts 
more  and  more  highly,  till  they  pass  off  in  gases  which  no 
eye  can  see,  no  receiver  hold.  Like  a  residuum,  words  are 
remaining  in  elemental  shape,  but  are  only  used  by  fancy  for 
exhaling  sightless  things  which  no  alchemy  can  condense  and 
make  noticeable  by  the  senses ;  spirits  distilled  from  words  the 
native  strength  of  which  has  been  destroyed  by  fermentation, 
empty  ghosts  of  soulless  epithets,  the  gaseous  fumes  of  shadows, 
which  are  gravely  set  out  in  highly  wrought  jars  and  labelled 
by  the  inventor's  hand — Wisdom  etherealized — Quintessence  of 
fancy — Proto-sublimate  of  thought.  This  wisdom  claiming  to 
transcend  all  other,  even  the  wisdom  of  God,  may,  with  the  tern- 


16 

per  of  the  king  of  Babylon  prostituting  the  golden  vessels  of  the 
sanctuary,  use  sacrilegiously  the  truths  of  Scripture,  and  look 
with  contemptuous  self-complacency  on  those  feeling  honour 
and  safety  in  resting  on  the  rock  of  revelation ;  yet  on  its  fore- 
head the  boding  hand  seen  by  Belshazzar  has  written  with  the 
pen  of  inspiration,  "Philosophy  and  vain  deceit." 

In  considering  the  value  of  classical  studies  to  the  Christian 
and  the  minister,  we  shall  dwell  on  their  importance  no  further 
than  as  seen  in  a  theological  point  of  view.  There  are  persons 
who  think  the  time  well  nigh  thrown  away  which  is  given  to 
these  pursuits,  deeming  nothing  valuable  to  a  preacher  which 
does  not  bear  directly  on  the  forming  of  an  exhortation  or  the 
delivery  of  a  sermon.  The  need  of  habits  of  discrimination, 
reasoning,  and  correct  logical  thinking ;  of  using  precise,  pure, 
and  persuasive  language  no  one  can  pretend  to  gainsay.  But 
whence  must  come  the  ideas,  the  materials  to  be  worked  up  in 
this  logical  process  and  imbedded  in  this  convincing  language  ? 
The  fountain  that  beautifies  a  landscape  and  feeds  the  life  of 
persons  and  things  with  its  waters,  is  the  mere  outburst  of 
unseen  streams  converging  to  that  point  from  different  quarters 
under  ground  and  fed  from  many  sources ;  the  tree  refreshing 
with  its  shade  and  sustaining  by  its  fruits,  spreads  abroad  its 
roots  and  supplies  the  boughs  from  which  the  fruit  is  gathered, 
with  nourishment  from  sources  unnoticed  and  unheeded. 
How  foolish  to  pretend  that  in  either  case  nothing  is  important 
but  what  is  seen,  the  outbursting  waters,  the  ripened  fruit,  to 
the  exclusion  of  all  those  hidden  springs  without  which  there 
could  be  no  gushing  fountain,  no  fruit-laden  boughs.  The 
mouth  of  the  righteous  man  is  a  well  of  life;  the  words 
of  a  man's  mouth  are  as  deep  waters,  and  the  well-spring 
of  wisdom  as  a  flowing  brook;  he  whose  delight  is  in  the 
law  of  the  Lord,  shall  be  as  a  tree  planted  by  the  rivers 
of  water,  that  bringeth  forth  his  fruit  in  his  season.  The 
instructions  of  the  preacher  of  the  gospel,  must  be  the  con- 
centrating and  outpouring  of  wisdom  drawn  through  the  chan- 
nels of  various   studies   pursued  apart  from   the    eye  of  the 


17 

world ;  and  the  man  who  opens  into  his  soul  moyt  of  these 
channels  will  be,  in  the  fullest  sense,  in  the  garden  of  the  Lord, 
"a  well  of  living  waters  and  streams  from  Lebanon."  Not 
only  must  the  dew  of  the  Holy  Spirit  rest  on  his  branch,  his 
root  must  be  spread  out  by  the  waters  of  varied  learning:  then 
will  he  find  his  glory  fresh  in  him  and  his  bow  renewed  in  his 
hand ;  then  will  men  give  ear  and  wait  for  him  as  the  rain,  and 
open  their  mouths  wide  as  for  the  latter  rain.  The  prince  of 
orators  teaches  that  the  eloquence  of  an  orator  should  be  a  pre* 
cious  extract  elaborated  by  the  mind,  from  a  combination  as 
far  as  possible  of  all  kinds  of  learning;  and  the  greater  the 
compass  of  his  knowledge,  the  more  animating  and  vigorous  his 
powers  of  persuasion.  Much  more  is  this  true  of  him  whose 
duty  is  to  plead  with  men  for  their  salvation.  Paul,  Augus- 
tine, Chrysostom,  and  Chalmers  were  men  whose  pleadings  for 
Christ  laid  all  things  under  contribution.  Their  public  minis- 
trations have  become  the  admiration  of  the  world,  have  been 
thus  blessed,  because  they  sowed  beside  all  waters.  To  the  well 
instructed  ambassador  of  Christ  a  knowledge  of  the  theological 
schemes  of  paganism  must  ever  be  essential  for  many  reasons. 

Without  this,  we  cannot  understand  the  evil  from  which 
the  Christian  ^religion  was  intended  to  deliver  the  world. 
What  is  the  system  which  is  held,  preached,  loved  by  us, 
which  is  called  Christianity?  A  system  of  doctrine  for 
regulating  our  conduct,  and  effecting  our  deliverance  from 
sin.  But  is  it  confined  to  individuals?  Has  it  not  been 
intended  for  the  redemption  of  the  world?  It  is  the  consti- 
tution of  the  kingdom  set  up  by  God  in  opposition  to  the 
kingdom  of  darkness,  for  bringing  all  nations  into  the  glorious 
liberty  of  the  sons  of  God.  It  contemplates  man,  not  isolated, 
but  as  the  member  of  a  great  community  now  lying  in  guilt, 
from  which  is  to  be  drawn  by  sanctification  the  host  who 
shall  through  eternity  inhabit  the  city  of  the  living  God. 
We  meditate  on  the  condition  hereafter  awaiting  the  Church, 
as  one  of  holiness,  as  heaven.  But  what  is  the  state  from 
which   the  Church  is  delivered?     That  is  seen  in  the  world 


18 

under  the  effects  of  sin.  How  can  we,  therefore,  know  from 
what  the  Church  has  been  redeemed,  without  acquaintance 
with  mankind,  not  as  they  are  in  Christendom,  where  so 
many  counteracting  influences  repress  guilt,  but  as  they 
appear  in  pagan  countries,  where  every  restraint  is  removed 
and  sin  brings  forth  fruit  with  more  than  tropical  luxuriance. 
In  classical  literature  is  given  a  picture  of  the  state  of  the 
world  in  the  most  cultivated  nations  at  the  time  of  Christ. 
Herein  is  laid  open  the  philosophy,  the  history,  the  poetry, 
the  morality,  the  worship  of  mankind,  under  the  best  aspect,  at 
the  juncture  when  God  sent  forth  his  Son. 

Equally  necessary  is  the  information  thus  derived  for  show- 
ing how  deeply  mankind  needed  a  divine  revelation.  This 
is  an  essential  point  in  the  argument  on  the  evidences  of 
Christianity.  Paganism  is  revealed  in  the  classic  authors  in 
its  best  development  and  most  attractive  attire,  yet  withal 
in  the  greatest  moral  deformity.  As  an  exhibition  of  the 
stage  at  which  man  had  arrived  in  his  unaided  efforts  after 
a  religion,  it  shows  the  hopelessness  of  human  attempts  to 
abate  the  tide  of  evils  let  in  by  sin  on  our  fallen  world. 
Therein  the  teachings  and  practices  of  the  gospel  are  seen 
in  advance  of  the  condition  of  the  world ;  aijd  the  point  is 
laid  open  to  which  the  mind  had  been  able  to  rise  in  philoso- 
phy and  religion  without  the  aid  of  revelation. 

Idolatry  is  the  besetting  sin  of  mankind.  Far  from  being 
an  outcast  from  Christian  lands,  it  dwells  here  under  another 
guise — casting  aside  the  grossness  of  the  garb  worn  among 
the  heathen,  and  assuming  one  less  repulsive  by  being  modi- 
fied and  adapted  to  the  habits  of  those  with  whom  it  sojourns. 
As  idolatry  sprung  from  the  corruptions  of  human  nature, 
and  was  the  caricature  first  of  Patriarchism,  afterwards  of 
Judaism,  we  must  expect  that  under  Christianity  there  would 
be  the  same  unhallowed  propensities  of  the  heart  at  work,  and 
there  would  arise  a  form  of  idolatry  exhibiting  a  combination 
of  Christianity  with  pagan  errors,  that  in  this  would  appear 
the  operation  of  the  old  propensity  for  worshipping  ancestors 


19 

and  benefactors.  Is  this  not  so?  Whence  came  the  worship 
of  the  mother -of  Christ? — the  worship  of  men  canonized,  the 
demons  of  Christian  idolatry  ?  How  can  the  ministry  be  safely 
ignorant  of  the  perfect  form  of  that  error  which  has  ever  been 
the  besetting  sin  of  the  Jewish  and  the  Christian  Church? 
This  is  a  vital  point  in  theology,  to  be  guarded  by  the  sentinels 
of  Zion  with  sleepless  care.  It  is  in  the  Church,  in  our  strug- 
gle with  the  powers  of  darkness,  what  military  men  would  call 
the  key  of  our  position.  Hence,  when  the  enemy  was  able  to 
enter  the  camp  of  the  saints,  and  seizing  this  point,  intrench 
himself  on  the  hills  of  Papal  Rome,  what  havoc  did  he  make 
of  the  Church ;  and  what  vigour  is  he  able  even  yet  to  infuse 
into  his  attacks  on  spiritual  religion.  The  struggle  of  grace 
in  the  heart  is  a  continual  struggle  with  this  idolatrous  ten- 
dency. Thus  in  the  Church — thus  in  the  world.  How  soon 
after  Christ  began  the  germination  of  the  principles  afterwards 
ripened  into  the  Church  of  Rome;  and  how  strong  the  ten- 
dency even  yet  in  that  direction.  Idolatry  is  the  religion  of 
man  as  fallen.  Christianity  is  the  corrective,  the  antagonist 
power.  It  was  introduced  as  the  enemy  of  sin  with  its  reli- 
gion, idolatry.  On  every  point,  the  two  are  irreconcilable. 
Between  them  there  can  be  no  fellowship :  Christ  is  the  head  of 
the  one ;  Belial  the  head  of  the  other.  Between  these  antago- 
nist kingdoms,  there  is,  and  ever  must  be,  a  deadly  struggle 
in  every  heart,  no  less  than  in  the  world. 

Now,  to  neglect  a  knowledge  of  pagan  idolatry,  is  for  the 
soldier  of  Christ  to  disregard  his  adversary,  and  the  arms,  the 
tactics  needed  for  success  in  the  conflict.  Napoleon  said 
that  nothing  is  to  be  neglected  in  war.  The  one  thing  over- 
looked may  be  the  one  thing  needful  for  victory.  Foreign 
missionaries  have  been  made  sensible  of  the  importance  of 
acquaintance  with  this  subject.  Henry  Martyn  found  subtle 
adversaries  in  the  Mohammedans;  and  the  priests  of  paganism, 
however  absurd  their  system  to  us,  have  artifice  in  its  defence, 
and  must  be  put  to  silence,  not  by  contempt  or  ridicule,  but  by 
lawful  argument  and  conclusive  reasoning.     The  portraiture  of 


20 

Rhesus  by  Euripides  is  true  to  nature.  Coming  to  the  Trojan 
camp,  unacquainted  with  the  enemy,  he  thought  of  nothing  but 
victory;  was  ready  to  censure  the  delay  in  ending  the  war; 
and  boasted  how  he  would  punish  the  audacious  foe;  yet, 
before  the  morrow's  dawn,  that  enemy  had  been  his  destruc- 
tion. Thus  in  defending  the  strong  holds  of  the  Church,  in 
contending  for  the  truth,  those  who  feel  there  is  no  danger, 
who  despise  their  antagonist,  who  neglect  the  exercises  and 
armour  needed  for  keeping  in  constant  preparation  for  the  foe, 
may  be  to  the  cause  they  love  the  most  dangerous  enemies. 

There  have  been  attacks  made  on  Christianity,  which  cannot 
be  resisted  without  a  knowledge  of  pagan  idolatry.  It  has 
been  boldly  maintained  by  array  of  learning  and  argument, 
that  the  institutions  of  Judaism  were  borrowed  by  Moses  to  a 
great  extent  from  the  Egyptians.  If  this  be  so,  two  results 
follow:  Many  important  features  of  Christianity  having  come 
from  Judaism,  which  is  alleged  to  have  borrowed  from  pagan- 
ism, the  Christian  system  is  one  not  of  pure  revelation,  but 
derived  partly  from  the  corrupt  imaginings  of  man.  Again,  if 
Judaism  borrowed  from  paganism,  Christianity  may  do  the 
same ;  and  hence  any  ceremonies  brought  into  the  Church  from 
the  same  source,  are  perfectly  unexceptionable.  This  would 
unsettle  our  whole  ground  of  confidence ;  for  who  will  tell  what 
has  been  thus  borrowed,  what  not  Some  of  its  most  important 
truths  and  observances  may  have  been  thus  derived ;  and  how, 
therefore,  can  we  know  that  by  following  this  system  we  may 
please  God.  This  is  no  unimportant  question.  It  lies  at  the 
root  of  our  faith.  A  proper  acquaintance  with  pagan  idolatry, 
shows  the  fallacy  of  this  elaim,  demonstrates  the  dependence  of 
paganism  on  revelation,  and  destroys  at  once  all  necessity  for 
such  volumes  as  those  of  Witsius  and  Spencer. 

The  history  of  error  is  interesting  and  important.  This 
makes  us  acquainted  with  the  phenomena  of  the  intellectual 
and  moral  world,  and  furnishes  the  facts  on  which  to  build  a 
sound  philosophy.  Profane  history,  including  particularly 
idolatrous  religions,  is  part  of  the  history  of  the   Church,  not 


21 

the  less  truly  because  not  generally  so  considered.  The  record 
of  the  different  sects  broken  off  from  the  true  faith  is  every 
where  thus  viewed ;  yet  the  various  divisions  of  paganism  are 
sects  that  have  separated  from  the  people  of  God  at  a  period 
more  remote  and  are  further  gone  in  error.  The  difference 
between  them  and  other  errorists,  is  their  retaining  less  of  the 
truth,  and  having  this  trifle  almost  lost  by  transfusion  in  a 
greater  mass  of  corruption.  They  show  religious  error  in  a 
state  of  more  advanced  development  and  maturity.  The  his- 
tory of  the  nature  and  progress  of  idolatry  in  its  principles 
and  practices,  in  its  views  of  God,  and  in  the  effect  of  those 
views  on  man,  is  one  of  the  most  important  disclosures  made 
and  making  in  this  world,  and  of  absorbing  interest  to  beings 
of  an  unfallen  condition  and  higher  sphere.  In  other  worlds, 
themselves  at  present  and  ourselves  hereafter  may  see  more 
glorious  displays  of  the  laws  of  nature ;  but  in  no  other  world 
perhaps  can  they  study  the  nature  of  sin  as  shown  in  the 
mournful  facts  here  developed  by  the  fall,  and  see  the  import- 
ance of  observing  rigidly  the  moral  laws  established  for  con- 
troling  the  spiritual  creation.  And  after  these  ravages  of  sin 
have  been  suppressed,  the  history  of  the  workings  of  sin  on 
earth  will  ever  be  read  with  the  deepest  interest  and  instruction 
by  the  inmates  of  heaven.  With  an  interest  infinitely  surpass- 
ing that  with  which  we  listen  to  a  person  who  has  come  safe 
through  a  dreadful  pestilence,  a  momentous  battle,  a  bloody 
revolution,  will  unfallen  beings  love  to  gather  around  the 
redeemed,  and  learn  what  they  have  here  known,  seen,  felt  of 
the  revolting  character  of  sin.  In  this  view  it  matters  not 
that  so  much  of  classical  literature  is  fiction.  Those  very 
fictions  are  facts  developed  by  the  working  of  error  in  the 
human  mind.  And  "the  tale  of  Troy  divine,"  even  though 
unreal,  a  poetic  fiction,  is  nevertheless  a  true  picture  of  a 
condition  of  mankind  in  that  heroic  age.  Fiction  may  embody 
and  present  principles  with  as  much  power  and  reality  as  can 
be  done  by  facts.  The  statements  of  classic  poetry  may  be 
unreal,  yet  the  condition  therein  portrayed  of  human  society 


22 

and  of  the  heart  of  man  in  apostacy  from  God,  is  rigidly  true ; 
for  a  fundamental  principle  of  the  poet  "was  to  copy  nature. 
In  that  view  the  poetry,  tragedies,  comedies,  satires,  philo- 
sophy, mythology,  every  fragment  of  pagan  antiquity  becomes 
valuable  and  precious  as  materials  for  the  history  of  the 
depravity  of  the  mind  broken  loose  from  the  restraints  imposed 
by  the  true  knowledge  of  God.  Were  it  not  for  the  little  got 
on  this  subject  in  their  collegiate  course,  how  many  would  be 
perfectly  ignorant  of  the  state  of  man  without  religion,  and  of 
the  condition  to  which  loss  of  the  Scriptures  would  reduce  even 
the  most  enlightened  community.  The  wisdom  clearly  seen 
in  all  the  arrangements  of  creation,  seems  to  have  ordained 
that  the  studies  necessary  for  training  the  intellectual  powers 
should  be  so  blended  with  the  heathen  religions,  that  a  good 
Christian  education  cannot  be  got  without  learning  the  con- 
dition of  error,  immorality,  and  abomination  into  which  a 
departure  from  revealed  truth  inevitably  leads. 

Moreover,  acquaintance  with  heathenism  is  necessary  for 
understanding  the  nature  of  the  foundation  on  which  Chris- 
tianity rests.  Man  is  prompted  and  bound  by  duty  to  look 
into  the  laws  and  arrangements  of  God  in  the  scheme  of 
redemption,  no  less  than  in  creation.  Through  sin,  limits  have 
been  set  on  every  side  to  our  knowledge ;  yet  while  giving  us 
facts  and  truths  in  revelation,  God  left  something  to  be  done 
by  us  in  following  out  those  truths  so  far  as  sober  reason, 
enlightened  by  the  Holy  Spirit,  may  lead.  A  disposition  to 
clear  away  as  far  as  possible  the  rubbish  around  the  tower  of 
salvation  and  look  into  the  character  of  its  foundation,  is  a 
different  thing  from  the  pride  which  would  bring  revelation  to 
the  test  of  reason.  The  Christian  system  has  not  been  the 
growth  of  an  age.  Its  corner-stone  was  laid  in  the  first  pro- 
mise at  the  gate  of  Eden;  the  foundation  was  carried  up 
during  the  Patriarchal  and  Levitical  dispensations ;  the  finish 
was  put  to  the  structure  when  among  men  appeared  the  Son  of 
God.  Days  and  months  of  labour  were  required  for  rearing 
the  lofty  pillar  to  the  memory  of  Washington  in  Baltimore, 


23 

that  the  whole  might  be  crowned  with  the  statue  on  its  summit : 
Christ  is  to  the  structure  of  revelation,  what  that  statue  is  to 
the  monument;  and  while  without  him  revelation  would  be 
without  its  essential  crown,  the  intelligent  admirer  and  lover  of 
Jesus  will  delight  to  scan  the  whole  fabric  and  examine  reve- 
rently the  massive  foundation  on  which  rests  this  glorious 
manifestation  of  God  in  the  person  of  his  Son. 

But  this  foundation  was  laid  amidst  heathen  idolatry.  A 
beginning  had  been  made,  but  the  work  seemed  at  a  stand,  and 
almost  obscured,  when  a  new  start  was  given  by  the  calling  of 
Abraham,  and  the  structure  was  carried  on  surrounded  by  the 
abominations  of  Egypt.  The  New  Testament  is  founded  on 
the  Old,  and  cannot  be  understood  without  a  knowledge  of  the 
latter.  Nor  can  a  thorough  acquaintance  be  had  with  the  Old 
Testament  without  an  exploration  of  the  soil  in  which  its 
basis  was  laid,  the  religious  systems,  the  idolatry  of  this 
apostate  world.  The  kind  of  foundation  laid  for  any  edi- 
fice must  depend  on  the  character  of  the  position,  and  be 
different  in  different  places.  Thus  the  genius  of  the  Mosaic 
economy  cannot  be  fully  understood  without  viewing  it  in 
connection  with  the  surrounding  idolatry.  Egypt  was  then 
the  best  representative  of  heathenism,  powerful  in  wealth,  in 
arms,  in  civilization,  and  in  refinement  of  its  false  religion. 
There,  was  the  kingdom  of  God  as  an  organized  community, 
brought  for  the  first  time  into  collision  with  the  kingdom  of 
darkness,  and  the  conflict  begun  which  shall  close  only  with 
the  end  of  the  world.  Not  without  being  studied  in  connexion 
with  the  idolatry  then  and  thereafter  girdling  them,  can  the 
reasons  for  many  things  embodied  in  the  Jewish  ritual  be  pro- 
perly comprehended. 

The  same  is  true  concerning  the  structure  of  Christianity. 
Its  foundation  in  the  Mosaic  economy  and  its  perfection  in 
the  gospel  were  both  built,  like  the  second  temple,  in  the 
midst  of  enemies,  where  it  was  necessary  to  work  with  the 
trowel  in  one  hand  and  the  sword  in  the  other.  Both  came 
into  action  opposed  to  the  most  powerful  combinations  of  idola- 


24 

try  ever  existing,  those  of  Egypt,  of  Greece,  and  of  Rome. 
These  must  be  known  for  understanding  and  appreciating  the 
character  of  the  Christian  religion.  The  wisdom  and  genius 
shown  in  the  Eddystone  light-house  cannot  be  known  without 
viewing  the  element  amid  which  it  is  placed  and  the  fury  of 
the  surges  it  has  to  withstand.  The  Church  "the  pillar  and 
ground  of  the  truth,"  towers  amid  the  flood  of  ungodliness 
bursting  over  the  world,  its  foundation  on  the  Rock  of  ages,  on 
its  top  burning  the  undecaying  light  of  divine  truth  for  guiding 
and  saving  from  destruction  the  tempest-beaten  souls  of  our 
wrecked  and  benighted  race.  The  wisdom  of  its  structure 
and  the  strength  by  which  it  has  withstood  so  many  fearful 
commotions,  such  terrific  storms,  cannot  be  known  without 
studying  the  elements  amid  which  it  stands  and  with  which  it 
was  formed  to  contend. 

To  the  Christian,  especially  him  who  is  entrusted  with  the 
defence  and  exposition  of  the  truth,  there  is,  therefore,  neces- 
sity for  acquaintance  with  pagan  idolatry.  So  important  has 
this  been  deemed  by  God,  that  he  has  so  arranged  things  in 
his  providence,  as  to  make  it  impossible  for  us  to  study  the 
models  given  by  him  of  intellectual  excellence^  and  pass 
through  the  discipline  of  a  thorough  education,  without  getting 
some  knowledge  of  this  subject.  The  divorcing  of  classical 
studies  from  the  study  of  the  Scriptures  is  neither  desirable  nor 
possible.  Like  Egypt,  Sabsea,  Lebanon,  and  Tyre  furnishing 
materials  and  gold  for  God's  house  as  set  up  in  the  wilderness 
and  afterwards  established  on  Mount  Moriah,  in  whose  inmost 
shrine  were  hid  the  tables  of  the  written  law — profane  litera- 
ture, uninspired  learning,  science,  pagan  idolatry,  must  be  laid 
under  contribution  in  rearing  the  fabric  of  a  finished  Christian 
education,  and  all  these  materials  be  built  into  a  structure 
wherein  the  truths  of  the  Scriptures  must  be  enshrined. 


;  >■ — *o 


DISCOURSE 


OSUYEESO  IN"  IS.?. 


FIRST  PRESBYTERIAN  CI 


~<=^r- 


S 


OF  EiSTOll  PI, 


bs  iac  dat  oi 


TEH  ANNUA*,  THANKSGIVING, 


NoVC-lubc'l'  -7,   1851; 


Rev,  GEORGE  BURUOWES, 


rRorrtsoR  op  utreuAflM  is  lafatettk  ooujbhr. 


rUBLISBED  IiT  REQVEST  OV  THE  CONBRJBGATIOJST. 


EASTOX,  PENN'A: 

TKIXIEn    AT    THE    EASTOX   SENTINSL    JOB  OniCI, 

1852. 


DISCOURSE 


DELIVERED  IN  THK 


FIRST  PRESBYTERIAN  CHURCH  OF  E1ST0N,  PL, 

ON  THE  DAT  OP 

THE  ANNUAL  THANKSGIVING, 

November  27,  1851. 

BT    THE 

Rev,  GEORGE  BURROWES, 

PROFESSOR  OF  LANGUAGES  IN  LAFATETTE  COLLEGE. 

PUBLISHED  BT  REQUEST  OF  THE  CONGREGATION. 

EASTON,  PENN'A: 

PRINTED   AT  THE  EASTON  SENTINEL  JOB  OFFICE. 

1852. 


I<) 


Deut.  8  :  10.-^-  When  thou  hast  eaten  and  art  full,  then  shalt  thou  bless  the  Lord 
thy  God  for  the  good  land  tohich  He  hath  given  thee. 

As  we  come  together  in  the  house  of  God,  this  morning,  we  have  reason  to 
""  enter  into  His  gates  with  thanksgiving  and  into  His  courts  with  praise,  be 
thankful  unto  Him  and  bless  His  name."  The  changes  of  another  year  have 
■passed  over  us;  the  beauties  of  spring,  the  attractive  secnes  of  summer,  the 
mellow  hues  of  fruitful  autumn  have  given  place  to  each  other  in  sucession 
and  to  the  cheerless  landscape  of  winter ;  while  amid  this  general  decay  and 
desolation  in  nature,  our  blessings  and  enjoyments  have  stood  unchanged. 
How  few  of  our  mercies  have  been  withdrawn  ;  how  many  good  gifts  of  a 
kind  Providence  are  still  clustering  around  our  way.  True,  there  are  hopes 
which  have  not  been  realized,  anticipations  that  have  failed  ;  there  are  fire- 
sides at  which  some  well  loved  presence  of  former  gatherings  will  not  be  found ; 
there  are  sorrows  which  have  thrown  their  gloom  on  the  heart;  but  as  individ- 
uals and  as  a  community  we  still  find  the  cup  of  our  blessings  running  ove- 
and  the  good  Shepherd  yet  leading  us  beside  the  still  waters  of  the  purest 
earthly  enjoyments  in  the  green  pastures  of  this  goodly  land  of  freedom's 
home.  The  lines  have  indeed  fallen  unto  us  in  pleasant  places  ;  we  have  a 
goodly  heritage.  With  our  land  we  are  satisfied.  We  have  no  craving  for  a 
better  country  ;  we  know  there  is  on  earth  no  better  country.  We  feel 
that  ours  is  truly  a  land  of  promise  ;  that  our  eyes  see,  and  our  ears  hear,  and 
our  hearts  feel  what  the  great  and  good,  the  martyrs  in  the  cause  of  human 
rights,  have  desired  but  never  been  permitted  to  behold.  In  the  midst  of 
this  profusion  of  blessings,  let  us  then  give  heed  to  the  admonition,  "  Wher 
thou  hast  eaten  and  art  full,  then  shalt  thou  bless  the  Lord  thy  God  for  the 
good  land  which  He  hath  given  thee." 

But  what  makes  this  so  good  a  land  ?  so  rich,  so  happy,  so  desirable  a 
country?  Is  it  the  extent  and  character  of  the  regions  embraced  within  the 
limits  owning  our  laws?  Our  territory  and  our  institutions  surpass  those  of 
the  boasted  republics  of  antiquity.  Attica,  from  which  spread  abroad  the 
Athenian  power,  was  a  promontory  by  no  means  fertile  ;  little  more  than  fifty 
miles  in  length  ;  with  an  area  of  seven  hundred  square  miles  and  a  population 
,of  five  hundred  and  twenty  thousand,  of  whom  four  hundred  thousand  were 


•  laves.  One-third  of  the  grain  consumed  was  imported.  Their  chief  food 
was  bread,  meat,  fish,  cheese  with  some  of  the  more  common  garden  vegeta- 
bles ;  these  with  wine,  milk,  and  honey  formed  nearly  the  whole  range  of  their 
diet.  Tea,  coffee,  cocoa,  sugar,  spices,  spirits,  beer,  butter,  rice,  potatoes, 
oranges,  tobacco,  oats,  and  rye  were  not  known  nor  cultivated  in  Caeece  or. 
Italy. 

The  Roman  empire  contained  about  one  million  six  hundred  thousand  square, 
miles,  while  our  territory  is  of  an  area  double  this  extent.  The  city  of  Jlome 
was  in  circuit  about  thirteen  miles,  with  a  population  of  two  millions  three, 
hundred  thousand,  of  whom  nearly  one  million  were  slaves.  -As  agriculture 
was  much  neglected  in  Italy,  most  of  their  grain  was  imported,  and  Egypt 
alone  furnished  annually  in  the  time  of  Augustus  nearly  live  millions  of  bush- 
els, a  sufficiency  for  only  a  third  of  the  year.  While  immense  wealth  was 
possessed  by  a  few,  the  lower  classes  of  free  citizens  were  supported  in  great 
measure  by  the  largesses  of  the  emperor ;  the  law  of  debtor  and  cred-tor  was 
bo  severe  as  to  give  their  Shylocks,  under  certain  circumstances,  literally  the 
pound  of  flesh  ;  there  wrere  but  four  thousand  persons  worth  more  than  fifteen 
thousand  dollars  ;  and  only  two  cities  that  could  furnish  five  hundred  citizens 
passing  that  sum.  Their  common  schools,  where  the  mass  of  the  people  got 
their  whole  education,  taught  noth'ng  bes'des  reading  and  arithmetic;  they 
were  without  newspapers,  without  post-offices,  without  public  lines  of  travel ; 
and  such  was  the  state  of  things,  that  with  all  the  show  of  power,  the  destruc- 
tion of  the  legions  under  Varus  in  Germany  though  numbering  onlr  fourteen 
thousand  infantry,  shook  the  empire  to  the  centre,  fiHed  the  imperial  city  with 
terror,  and  drove  the  emperor  to  distraction.  The  navy  of  the  United  States 
could  annihilate  all  the  fleets  ever  possessed  by  these  ancient  republics. 

In  contrast  with  them,  how  superior  are  the  endowments  of  this  country  on 
all  points  affecting  the  true  power  and  glory  of  nations.  Stretching  along  the 
Atlantic  sea-board  through  more  than  twenty  degrees  of  latitude,  oar  te\  itory 
expands  westward  to  the  Pacific  ocean  nearly  four  thousand  miles,  embracing 
variety  unparelled  of  climate,  resources,  scenery  and  soil ;  on  our  northern 
boarder  are  the  hardy  animals  of  colder  latitudes;  on  our  southern  boundaries 
cluster  the  riches  of  tropical  climes;  between  these  age  the  agricultural  re- 
sources of  temperate  zones,  inexaustible  mineral  treasures,  and  tracts  richer 
than  the  Indies  in  gold.  Are  these  the  gifts  of  a  kind  Providence  which  make 
this  so  desirable  a  country?  Nay,  he  has  given  us  nobler  blessings  than  even 
these.  Every  intelligent  patriot  feels, — how  invaluable  soever  these  things, 
these  are  not  our  country.  There  are  on  earth,  landscapes  as  beautiful,  val- 
lies  as  fertile,  as  balmy  airs,  and  as  sunny  skies,  where  the  unhappy  millions 
are  turning  with  breaking  hearts,  and  broken  spirits,  and  tearful  eyes  towards 


this  as  the  land  of  their  hopes,  their-  desires,  their  rest.  While  deeply  thank* 
fnl  for  all  the  natural  advantages  lavished  in  profusion  on  our  territory,  each 
one  of  us  feels, — Our  institutions  these,  these  are  my  country.  Their  institu- 
tions it  was  that  gave  the  glory  to  Greece,  to  Home,  to  Palestine  ;  these  are 
now  the  glory  of  England;  these  are  in  our  own  country  the  centre  of  the 
affections  of  every  true  American  heart. 

These  institutions  ave  no  ephemeral  shoot;  they  are  the  growth  of  ages. — • 
Every  thing  great  and  valuable  takes  time  to  mature  ;  and  principles  like  those 
of  our  own  government,  which  have  attained  their  power  by  a  gradual  devel- 
opment running  through  generations,  may  give  well  grounded  hope  of  with- 
standing threatening  dangers  and  prolonging  their  influence  far  into  the  future 
for  blessings  to  millions  yet  unborn.  The  survey  which  reveals  the  origin  and 
excellence  of  our  institutons,  opens  at  the  same  time  in  the  heart  a  reasonable 
and  unfaltering  assurance  of  the  stability  and  perpetuity  of  our  Union.  The 
constitution  and  confederation  of  these  states  has  a  far  earlier  origin  than  the 
date  of  the  stamp-act  or  the  battle  of  Lexington.  How  much  time  and  labor 
were  spent  in  the  forests  of  Lebanon  and  in  the  quarries  of  Pentelicus  in  pre- 
paring the  materials  for  the  temple  of  Solomon  and  the  Parthenon:  thus  this 
glorious  fabric  of  civil  and  religious  liberty  had  been  in  progress  for  ages  be- 
fore it  rose  on  the  view  of  the  world,  like  the  temple  of  Diana  at  Ephesua 
receiving  contributions  from  various  nations, — like  the  second  temple  of  the 
Jews  carried  forward  amid  difficulties  and  discouragements,  when  the  builders 
were  often  obliged  to  work  with  the  trowel  in  one  hand  and  the  sword  in  the 
other.  All  the  foregoing  changes  and  revolutions  of  the  world  have  been 
made  to  bear  on  the  foundation  of  the  American  republic.  Its  corner-stone 
is  the  word  of  God.  This  was  laid  when  the  scriptures  were  deposited  on 
earth  by  the  hands  of  God  manifest  in  the  flesh,  while  over  it  the  morning 
stars  sang  together  and  all  the  sons  of  God  shouted  for  joy. 

At  the  Preformation  the  work  took  a  fresh  start.  The-  stuggle  went  forward 
in  England  for  a  long  time  before  transferred  to  this  continent.  The  contest 
was  the  same  ;  the  theatre  of  it  was  changed.  The  American  Revolution  was 
but  the  winding  up  of  the  conflict  which  had  brought  Charles  I.  to  the  scaf- 
fold. The  battle  was  for  civil  and  religious  liberty;  it  was  fought  not  for 
England  and  America  alone,  but  for  the  benefit  of  mankind.  Civil  liberty 
cannot  be  kept  from  following  in  the  tread  of  religious  freedom.  The  Ptefor- 
mation  was  the  setting  free  of  the  human  mind  and  conscience.  Hence  these 
countries  have  made  the  greatest  advances  in  true  liberty,  where  the  principles 
of  the  Reformation  have  operated  with  least  hinderance.  England  had  the 
honor  of  being  chosen  by  Providence  as  the  citidel  of  the  reformed  faith  and 
refuge  of  His  persecuted  saints  from  aJl  parts  of  Europe.    When  the  govern- 


Orients  of  France  and  Spain  formed  with  the  countenance  of  the  Pope  th« 
famous  Catholic  League  for  exterminating  Protestantism,  unsatisfied  by  the 
atrocites  inflicted  on  the  saints  caught  before  escaping  from  their  country, 
those  tyrants  were  at  great  trouble  and  expense  for  arresting  them  in  their 
retreats  among  foreign  nations.  Afraid  to  make  these  attempts  on  the  free 
soil  of  England,  these  rulers  demanded  that  their  Protestant  exiles  should  be 
delivered  up  as  criminals  escaped  from  justice.  To  the  honor  of  England 
those  demands  were  refused.  Creat  offence  was  thereby  given  ;  and  this  was 
one  of  the  reasons  alleged  in  the  papal  bull  for  excommunicating  Elizabeth. 
With  chagrin  deepened  by  disappointed  vengeance  and  in  fulfilment  of  the 
vow  devoting  his  life  to  the  extirpation  of  heresy,  the  king  of  Spain  deter- 
mined to  subdue  England,  and  for  this  purpose  prepared  the  great  Armada. 
France  too  was  drunk  with  the  blood  of  the  saints  on  other  occasions  than 
St.  Bartholomew's,  These  different  countries  were  thereafter  to  be  rewarded, 
— the  one  for  giving  more  than  a  cup  of  cold  water  to  deciples  of  Jesus, 
the  other  for  sheding  without  stint  or  mercy  the  blood  of  the  suffering  fol- 
lowers of  Christ.  Had  they  come  from  the  lips  of  a  prophet  the  words  of 
John  Knox  could  not  have  more  perfectly  foreboded  the  truth,  when  on  hear- 
ing of  the  massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew's,  in  a  sermon  shortly  before  his  death, 
he  desired  the  French  ambassador  to  tell  his  master  that  sentence  was  pro- 
nounced against  him  in  heaven,  that  the  Divine  vengeance  would  never  depart 
from  his  house,  and  none  proceeding  from  his  loins  should  enjoy  his  kingdom 
in  peace,  unless  repentence  prevented  the  Divine  judgments.  Here  is  found 
the  key  to  the  different  and  remarkable  dealings  of  God  with  those  nations 
since  that  period.  During  the  wars  of  the  French  Revolution,  no  countries 
suffered  more  than  France  and  Spain,  none  suffered  less  than  England.  While 
they  were  bleeding  at  every  pore,  England  enjoyed  a  remarkable  protection. 
The  sons  of  the  sires  who  had  destroyed  the  Spanish  Armada,  annihilated  the 
combined  navies  of  France  and  Spain  at  Aboukir  and  Trafalgar.  The  only 
country  in  Europe  on  which  the  armies  of  revolutionary  France  did  not  set 
foot  was  England  ;  the  only  important  capital  they  did  not  enter  was  London. 
Egypt  was  taken  from  them  by  capitulation  to  the  English.  The  first  fort- 
resses wrested  from  the  empire  of  Napoleon,  were  Ciudad,  Rodrigo  and  Ba- 
dajoz,  stormed  by  the  English.  The  first  overthrow  of  the  imperial  armies  in 
a  fair  field,  was  by  Wellington  at  Salamanca.  The  soil  of  that  France  which 
had  been  the  terror  of  Europe,  was  first  invaded  by  Wellington  advancing 
from  the  Pyrenees.  The  army  which  put  an  end  to  that  war  of  five  and 
twenty  years,  by  crushing  the  power  of  Napoleon,  was  the  English  army  at 
Waterloo.  On  no  one  thing  was  the  heart  of  the  French  emperor  more  anx- 
iously set  than  on  humbling  England  ;  yet  he  was  not  able  to  inflict  a  single 


great  overthrow  ou  Britain  during  the  whole  of  the  conflict,  and  at  its'  clbs9 
had  the  humiliation  of  seeing  his  capital  occupied  by  her  army,  himself  a 
captivo  in  her  hands,  and  France  owing  at  some  future  day  to  her  magnanim- 
ity the  possession  of  his  idolized  remains.  This  remarkable  protection  was 
extended  to  England  because  she  had  been  the  depository  of  those  principles 
of  Protestantism  and  liberty  which  having  been  there  first  nurtured,  were 
transplanted  to  receive  their  full  development  in  this  western  world.  France 
and  Spain  were  ahead  of  her  in  laying  the  foundation  of  empire  in  Canada, 
Florida,  Louisiana,  and  Mexico,  as  well  as  in  the  East  Indies  ;  but  of  all  these 
they  have  been  deprived  by  a  race  inheriting  the  blood  of  Britain,  and  carry- 
ing with  them  her  Protestant  religion  and  better  laws.  After  the  banishment 
of  Napoleon  to  St.  Helena,  a  remnant  of  his  Old  Guard  numbering  about  two 
hundred  men,  formed  a  military  colony  in  Texas  for  eventually  revolution- 
izing and  subjugating  Mexico.  Providence,  however,  frowned  on  the  enter- 
prise and  soon  dispersed  them,  reserving  for  our  countrymen  the  honor  of 
overspreading  the  same  territory  thirty  years  later  with  republican  institu- 
tions, and  of  dictating  peace  in  the  Mexican  capital.  The  same  Providence 
which  watched  over  those  principles  with  such  care  in  Britain,  from  the  Ar- 
mada down  to  Waterloo,  has  guarded  them  with  equal  care  on  our  own  soil ; 
and  has  thus  given  us  from  the  past,  an  assurance  of  Divine  protection  for  the 
future.  By  England,  we  mean  the  people  of  the  three  divisions  of  the  United 
Kingdom  ;  a  Protestant  Irishman  was  the  leader  of  her  Protestant  armies  to 
victory ;  the  Scotch  and  Irish  regiments  never  faltered  in  the  hour  of  danger  .  • 
and  in  the  fiercest  of  the  conflict  at  Waterloo,  the  swords  of  the  Life  Guards 
blazed  not  farther  in  advance  than  those  of  the  Inniskillens  and  Scotch 
Greys. 

The  principles  of  liberty  thus  protected  by  Providence  in  England  and  de- 
veloping gradually  amid  the  conflicts  of  her  civil  commotions,  her  parliaments, 
and  her  courts  of  law,  grew  with  fresh  vigor  when  transferred  to  this  soil,  and 
soon  ripened  into  our  present  glorious  government.  To  this,  all  foregoing  ages 
and  revolutions  have  been  made  to  contribute ; — Judea  her  inspired  wisdom 
and  outline  features  of  a  model  republic  ;  Greece  her  elegant  literature ;  Piome 
her  civilization  and  laws ;  England  her  free  institutions ;  Christianity  its  con- 
servative and  controlling  power.  Like  the  celebrated  Corinthian  brass  reputed 
as  formed  from  a  fusion  of  various  metals  and  thereby  making  a  compound 
more  precious  than  even  gold, — the  fusion  of  these  principles  thus  drawn  from 
all  times  and  ages,  has  produced  a  fabric  of  civil  government  better  adapted 
to  the  wants  of  the  world  at  large,  more  precious,  than  even  the  civil  polity 
of  the  Jewish  theocracy. 

We  thus  eee  our  institutions  are  founded  on  the  scriptures  and  religious 


principle.  The  Christian  religion  first  taught  the  world  sympathy  with  the 
masses.  Unlike  the  religion,  the  philosophy,  and  the  legislation  of  antiquity, 
which  were  for  the  initiated,  the  noble  few, — this  is  fitted  for  meeting  the 
wants  of  the  down-trodden  and  neglected  multitude  who  have  beer  too  gener- 
ally governed  as  though  made  for  the  ambition  of  those  in  power.  Christian- 
ity is  in  its  nature  essentially  democratic.  It  teaches  that  "all  hVen  were 
created  free  and  equal  ;•"  auc'  proclaimed  from  the  first  in  the  midst  of  proud 
philosophic  Athens,  "God  that  made  Lhe  world  hath  made  of  one  blood  all 
nations  of  men."  Acts,  17:  26.  Says  Tholuck,  "The  cultivated  heathen 
were  offerided  at  Christianity  precisely  for  this  reason,  that  the  higher  classes 
could  no  loriger  have  precedence  of  the  common  people;''  the  testimony  of 
Montesquieu*  is,  "  Christianity  is  a  stranger  to  despotic  power;''  atd  in  the 
words  of  D'e  Tocqtieville,  "  The  religion  which  declares  that  all  are  equal  in 
the  sight  of  God,  will  lot  refuse  to  acknowledge  that  all  citizens  are  equal  in 
the  eye  of  the  Jaw.  Religion  is  the  companion  of  liberty  in  all  its  battles  and 
all  its  conflicts,  the  cradle  of  its  infancy  and  the  divine  source  of  its  claims." 
"Christianity,"  says  De  Witt  Clinton,  "is  in  its  essence,  its  doctrines,  and 
its  forms  republican.''  Tt  is  adapted  to  the  comprehension  of  the  neopl'e ;  to 
make  the  ieople  happy,  and  to  make  them  happy,  not  by  making  them  slaves, 
but  by  bettering  their  conditior  and  making  them  free.  It  is  as  precisely 
adapted  to  itndermine  and  destroy  tyranny  as  light  is  fitted  to  displace  dark- 
ness; and  in' the  same  way,  not  by  overthrowing  despotisms  as  Sodom:  was 
destroyed  by  a  tempest  of  fire  from  heaven,  but  by  rising  on  their  deeds  of 
darkness  'ike  the  morning  dawn  imperceptibly  ieavening  the  whole  heaven  with 
its  glow  and  going  on  brightening  unto  the  perfect  day.  It  began  among  the 
poor.  Its  author  was  one  of  the  common  people.  .Among  these  was  he  pop- 
ular; not  many  wise  men,  not  many  mighty,  not  many  noble  believed  on  him. 
It  was  the  common  people  who  heard  him  gladly.  Mark,  12-  37.  In  an- 
nouncing his  commission,  he  said,  "Jehovah  hath  annointed  me  to  preach 
glad  tidings  to  the  poor:"  and  as  proof  of  the  divinity  of  his  mission,  he  ap- 
pealed to  the  fact  that  not  only  were  the  dead  raised,  but  the  poor  had  the 
gospel  preached  to  them.  Matt.  11 :  5.  It  is  adapted  to  make  the  common 
people  capable  of  governing  themselves.  A  republican  form  of  government 
is  undesirable  for  a  degraded  and  vicious  population  ;  for  a  people  possessing 
due  intelligence  and  moral  principle,  it  is  the  best  possible.  Christianity 
makes  men  able  to  rule  themselves  by  substituting  instead  of  the  terror  of 
standing  armies  an  enlightened  intellect  and  conscience,  with  the  fear  of  God. 
By  men  influenced  with  this  fear  was  our  country  originally  settled  and  the 
fundamental  principles  of  our  government  laid.  They  came  to  these  shores 
for  enjoying  the  religious  freedom  which  the  Reformation  taught  was  their 


right,  but  which  they  were  made  to  feel  could  not  be  found  in  Europe.  Hither 
they  fled,  not  in  search  of  gold,  not  through  ambition  of  conquest  or  of  found- 
ing an  empire,  but  for  socking  an  asylum  for  the  undisturbed  worship  of  God. 
Still  does  the  unchangable  King  of  nations  act  on  the  principle,  "  Them  that 
honor  me,  I  will  honor."  2  Sam.  2:  30.  To  them  was  that  principle  ap- 
plied. Aiming  only  at  the  honor  of  God  by  a  spiritual  worship  and  service, 
he  conferred  on  them  the  honor  of  being  the  founders  of  this  home  of  freedom 
and  refuge  for  the  oppressed.  How  different  the  asylum  they  here  opened, 
from  the  asylum  opened  by  Romulus.  The  latter  was  for  screening  the  vicious 
and  desperate  from  the  just  penalty  of  their  crimes ;  the  former  was  for  shel- 
tering from  persecution  for  conscience  sake  those  of  whom  the  world  was  not 
worthy.  Here  was  collected,  instead  of  a  band  of  outlaws,  the  best  blood  of 
Britain  and  France,  in  the  outcast  Huguenots  and  Puritans.  Pure  religion 
was  the  pillar  of  fire  and  cloud, — unseen  indeed  to  the  eye  of  sense  but 
brightly  visible  to  their  eye  of  faith,— Which  went   befor  tin   their  pas- 

sage through  the  sea  and  into  the  wilderness, 
faith  alone,  by  the  free  act  of  the  soul    without  subji  cl 

ecclesiastical  noble,  was  the  basis  of  their  religion  ;  and  that  religion  was  the 
corner-stone  of  their  civil  polity. 

The  advances  of  countries  in  liberty  have  been  in  proportion  to  the  prev- 
alence of  the  Bible  and  the  influence  of  the  Bible  among  the  masses.  Wo 
speak  not  of  countries  nominally  christian :  they  may  be  so  without  being 
under  the  power  of  the  scriptures.  And  of  all  tyrannies  that  is  the  worst 
which  throws  out  from  the  christian  system  everything  not  subserving  its  en- 
slaving aim,  and  putting  what  remains,  in  alliance  with  human  policy,  subjects 
the  man  to  a  despotism  which  clutches  with  a  deadly  grip  his  conscience. 
Not  christian  countries  but  Bible  countries  are  and  ever  must  be  free.  For 
this  reason  was  Judea  far,  very  far  ahead  of  the  nations  of  antiquity  in  free- 
dom ;  and  the  only  two  free  governments  on  earth  at  the  present  time  are  the 
United  States  and  England,  where  the  population  is  something  more  than 
merely  overshadowed  by  the  name  of  Christianity, — where  they  are  leavened 
by  an  influence  from  the  word  of  God  carried  into  almost  every  family,  enforced 
from  innumerable  pulpits,  and  brought  home  with  effective  power  to  multi- 
tudes of  hearts  by  the  Holy  Spirit.  Those  hearts  are  the  hope,  the  salvation 
of  our  country.  The  light  of  the  world,  the  salt  of  the  earth,  they  are  equally 
the  centres  from  which  are  diffused  the  influences  for  counteracting  the  dark- 
ness and  corruption  under  which,  like  all  other  republics,  ours  must  fall.  Not 
on  the  noisy,  bustling  politician,  not  on  the  man  with  protestations  of  patriot- 
ism continually  on  his  lips  but  with  ambition  and  office  in  his  heart,  not  on 
those  whose  devotion  to  politics  absorbs  all  other  feelings,  and  who  would 


10 

with  sincerity  of  heart,  though  with  mistaken  judgment,  substitute  a  licen- 
tious socialism  for  the  living  purity  of  religion ; — not  on  these,  bub  on  the 
unobtrusive  friends  of  Jesus  Christ,  those  who  have  taken  up  and  are  perpet- 
uating in  our  midst  the  principles  of  the  Puritans,  the  distributors  of  Bibles- 
and  tracts,  the  colporteurs,  the  sabbath-school  teachers,  the  christian  congrega- 
tions, the  pulpits  of  our  land, — on  these  rest  the  hopes  for  the  perpetuity  of 
our  institutions  and  empire.  Their  influence  is  not  the  less  effective,  not  the 
less  felt,  because  unassuming  and  unnoticed.. 

'"  Stillest  streams 
Oft  water  fairest  meadows.     The  proud  world 
That  as  she  sweeps  him  with  her  whistling  silks 
Scarce  deigns  to  notice  him,  or  if  she  see 
Deems  him  a  cipher  in  the  works  of  God, 
Receives  advantage  from  his  noiseless  hours 
Of  which  she  little  dreams.    Terhaps  she  owes 
Her  sunshine  and  her  rain,  her  blooming   spring 
And  plenteous  harvest,  to  the  prayer  he  makes. 
He  serves  his  country;  recompenses  well 
The  state  beneath  the  shadow  of  whose  vine 
He  sits  secure,  and  in  the  scale  of  life 
Holds  no  ignoble,  though  a  slighted  place, 
The  man  whose  virtues  are  more  felt  than  seen. 
Must  drop  indeed  the  hope  of  public  praise ; 
Hut  he  can  boast  what  few  that  win  it  can, 
That  if  his  country  stand  not  by  his  skill. 
At  least  bis  follies  have  not  wrought  her  fall." 

Moreover,  let  us  reflect  that  our  institutions  have  been  founded  by  good  men 
and  bought  with  precious  blood. 

'•  None 
But  such  as  are  good  men  can  give  good  things." 

The  recollection  of  the  virtues,  sacrifices,  and  sufferings  of  those  who  bled 
in  our  cause,  feeds  and  keeps  pure  the  flame  of  patriotic  feeling;  and  when 
these  cease  to  be  cherished,  devotion  to  our  country  will  decline  and  our  na- 
tional glory  perish.  In  dwelling  on  their  deeds,  we  have  not  the  pain  of  seeing 
the  men  base  while  the  exploits  are  striking  ;  we  view  with  admiration  noble 
ends  attained  by  noble  means  and  by  noble  spirits.  There  is  to  every  gener- 
ous heart  pleasure  in  acknowledging  an  obligation ;  and  the  depth  of  the 
pleasure  will  be  in  proportion  to  the  greatness  of  the  benefit  conferred.  Who 
does  not  feel  happy  in  thinking  of  the  men  of  our  Revolvtion  and  acknowledg. 
ing  their  worth?  There  is  in  this  a  three  fold  satisfaction, — the  pleasure  just 
noticed,  that  which  springs  from  surveying  the  excellence  of  moral  sublimity, 
and  that  arising  from  the  knowledge  that  both  these  are  combined  in  those 
whom  we  call  ours.  The  men  of  '  7G  are  as  superior  to  those  of  other  ages  as 
are  their  principles  and  institutions.     They  were  men  actuated  not  by  ambi- 


ll 

lion,  not  by  pride,  not  by  passion,  but  by  principle.  Notwithstanding  their 
many  grievances, — compared  with  the  oppressed  multitudes  then  in  France, 
they  enjoyed  a  kind  and  lenient  rule  from  the  mother  country.  The  tax  which 
Toused  them  to  resistance  was  a  trifling  matter  ;  it  was  against  the  principle 
therein  involved,  that  they  took  up  arms.  Hence  throughout  the  struggle  the 
absence  of  treachery,  fanaticism,  and  criminal  ambition.  Among  them  was 
found  but  a  single  traitor.  The  great  names  of  antiquity  grow  dim  under  the 
superior  lustre  of  the  presence  of  these  worthies.  Miltiades  the  conqueror  of 
.Marathon,  Them istocles  the  hero  of  Salamis,  Pausanias  who  led  the  Grecian 
host  at  Platea, — these  were  patriots  after  the  type  of  Benedict  Arnold.  Among 
the  actors  of  the  French  Revolution,  among  the  marshals  of  the  Empire,  there 
was  hardly  a  man  possessing  anything  deserving  the  name  of  principle,  ex- 
cept Macdonald  ;  and  this  he  owed  to  his  Scotch  blood. 

While  others  rouse  the  public  mind  by  appealing  to  the  love  of  glory,  there 
is  present  in  the  Anglo-Saxon  race  a  predominating  sense  of  duty.  "Words- 
worth's noble  ode  to  duty  is  the  expression  in  fitting  poetry,  of  a  national 
characteristic.  The  heart  of  the  French  soldier  might  be  stirred  by  the 
•appeal  of  Napoleon  to  the  forty  centuries  beholding  from  the  tops  of  the  Pyr- 
amids their  actions ;  nothing  could  be  better  fitted  to  inflame  the  enthusiasm 
of  those  sprung  from  the  same  stock  with  ourselves,  than  the  last  memorable 
signal  of  Nelson, — England  expects  every  man  to  do  his  duty.  The  patriots 
of  the  Revolution  had  the  same  blood  in  their  veins ;  and  from  the  time  the 
sword  was  drawn  till  it  was  returned  to  the  scabbard  in  triumph,  through 
adverse  and  prosperous  fourtune,  in  hours  of  brightness  and  gloom,  they  never 
swerved  from  their  principles,  never  forgot  that  posterity,  that  the  world,  that 
future  agos  were  with  anxious  interest  expecting  them  to  do  their  duty.  How 
nobly  that  duty  was  done,  we  are  allowed  this  day  to  see  and  feel.  With  them, 
self  held  a  secondary  place.  It  was  the  expression  not  of  the  sentiments  of 
an  individual,  but  of  the  feelings  of  the  army,  of  the  time,  when  a  patriot 
raised  from  the  field  where  he  had  fallen,  said,  "  I  die  as  I  have  always  wished 
to  die,  the  death  of  a  soldier  contending  for  the  rights  of  man."  There  was 
never  such  an  army,  such  a  corps  of  officers  as  those  associated  with  Wash- 
ington. Doubtless  there  have  been  men  as  brave.  The  bald  quality  of  courage 
is,  however,  a  very  common  endowment  among  men,  and  found  nowhere  in 
greater  perfection  than  in  bosoms  where  every  virtuous  and  generous  feeling 
has  been  petrified.  In  their  excellence,  bravery  was  a  secondary  ingredient. 
It  was  bravery  amid  such  a  glorious  cluster  of  moral  qualities,  that  constituted 
their  worth. 

Was  I  right  in  saying  there  never  was  such  an  army  and  with  such  officers? 
Nay,  history  tells  of  one,  the  army  of  Cromwell.     The  two  were  armies  of 


12 

different  ages  indeed  and  countries,  but  belonging  to  the  same  great  cause. 
They  fought  for  the  same  principles,  only  at  different  periods  of  the  same  rev- 
olution. The  American  Revolution  was  the  closing  scene  of  the  struggle  which 
was  in  progress  in  England  two  centuries  ago.  Never  had  a  cause  such  ad- 
vocates, defenders,  and  leaders,  whether  in  Parliament  or  Congress,  in  command 
or  in  the  ranks,  in  the  cabinet  or  in  the  field.  To  John  Milton  was  committed 
the  sacred  trust  of  pleading  this  cause  in  the  presence  of  Europe  and  of  pos- 
terity. And  nobly  has  the  trust  been  fulfilled.  To  this  task,  then  so  unpop- 
ular, this  venerable  man  hoary  with  pious  virtues  and  overshadowed  with  a 
halo  of  literary  fame  pure  as  that  gathered  over  the  shepherds  of  Bethlehem, 
brought  a  genius  great  in  native  vigor  as  that  of  Homer,  but  laden  with  intel- 
lectual riches  Homer  never  knew.  With  arguments  grand  and  faultless  as 
his  own  magnificent  prose,  has  he  placed  beyond  all  controversy  the  right  of 
the  people  to  call  to  account  tyrant  kings,  the  liberty  of  the  press,  and  other 
points  now  universally  received  as  axioms  of  freedom.  Hampden,  a  man 
"  to  whom  the  history  of  revolutions  furnishes  no  parallel  or  furnishes  a  par- 
allel in  Washington  alone,"  was  the  parliamentary  leader  of  this  movement. 
Its  soldiers  were  Cromwell  and  Washington, — that  Cromwell  over  whose 
memory  political  hatred  and  kingly  debauchees  threw  so  black  a  veil,  but  to 
whose  fame  posterity  is  now  beginning  to  do  full  though  tardy  justice, — the 
only  man  who  ever  retained  amid  the  same  political  power  so  pure  and  fer- 
vent a  piety, — the  man  "  without  whom  liberty  would  have  been  lost  not  only 
to  England  but  to  Europe."-' 

A  like  spirit  actuated  the  leaders,  the  deliberative  assemblies,  and  the  people 
in  both  contests.  The  words  of  Milton  concerning  his  own  country  at  that 
crisis,  might  be  considered  a  discription  of  our  own:  "  What  nation  or  state 
ever  obtained  liberty  by  more  successful  or  more  valorous  exertion?  For  for- 
titude is  seen  resplendent,  not  only  in  the  field  of  battle  and  amid  the  clash  of 
arms,  but  displays  its  energy  under  every  difficulty  and  against  every  assail- 
ant. During  the  mighty  struggle,  no  anarchy,  no  licentiouness  was  seen ;  no 
illusions  of  glory,  no  extravagant  emulation  of  the  ancients  inflamed  them 
with  a  thirst  for  ideal  liberty ;  but  the  rectitude  of  their  lives  and  the  sobriety 
of  their  habits  taught  them  the  only  true  and  safe  road  to  real  liberty ;  and 
they  took  up  arms  only  to  defend  the  sanctity  of  the  laws  and  the  rights  of 
conscience.  Relying  on  the  divine  assistance,  they  used  every  honorable  ex- 
ertion to  break  the  yoke  of  slavery."  The  scene  is  sublime  when  this  blind 
old  man  having  with  the  power  of  his  logic,  his  burning  thoughts  and  glow- 
ing words  completely  crushed  his  antagonists  and  thereby  scattered  forever 
the  spell  hanging  around  the  name  of  king,  looks  forward  to  coming  ages  with 

*Merle  D-'Aulugno. 


13 

the  eye  of  a  prophet,  and  exclaims,  "  Surrounded  by  congregated  multitudes, 
I  now  imagine  that  I  behold  the  nations  of  the  earth  recovering  that  liberty 
which  they  so  long  had  lost :  and  that  the  people  of  this  island  are  transplant- 
ing to  other  countries  a  plant  of  nunc  beneficial  qualities  and  more  noble 
growth  than  that  which  Triptolemus  is  reported  to  have  carried  from  region 
to  region  ;  that  they  are  disseminating  the  blessings  of  civilization  and  free- 
dom among  cities,  kingdoms,  and  nations."  In  closing  this  second  defence  of 
the  people  of  England,  he  says,  "  If  after  such  a  display  of  courage  and  vigor, 
you  basely  relinquish  the  path  of  virtue,  if  you  do  anything  unworthy  of 
yourselves,  posterity  'will  sit  in  judgment  on  your  conduct.  They  will  see 
that  the  foundations  were  well  laid  ;  but  with  deep  emotions  of  concern  will 
they  regret,  that  those  were  wanting  who  might  have  completed  the  structure." 
Those  were  not  wanting  who  might  complete  the  structure.  They  were  raised 
up  in  what  was  then  this  distant  western  wilderness.  What  had  been  so  glo- 
riously begun  by  Milton,  Hampden,  and  Cromwell,  was  taken  up  and  even 
more  gloriously  finished  by  Washington  and  his  compeers. 

The  name  of  Washington  already  belongs  to  the  world.  Among  the  con- 
stellations of  illustrious  characters  of  the  past,  he  shines  as  the  morning  star 
amid  the  stars  of  heaven,  and  like  this  glorious  light,  the  harbinger  an- 
nouncing that  the  day  of  freedom  is  breaking  and  the  shadows  of  despotism 
are  fleeing  away.  English  toryism  admits  that  "  Modern  history  has  not  so 
spotless  a  character  to  commemorate,  that  it  is  the  highest  glory  of  England 
to  have  given  birth,  even  amid  transatlantic  wilds,  to  such  a  man."  His 
character  approaches  as  near  as  human  infirmity  will  admit,  a  perfect  model 
of  the  great  and  good.  It  is  like  one  of  those  finished  pieces  of  statuary 
which  would  not  at  first  strike  the  vulgar  gaze  so  strongly  as  many  a  piece  of 
meaner  workmanship  combining  some  fiue  strokes  of  art  with  many  defor- 
mities. This  appears  most  beautiful  on  a  close  examination  and  to  a  correct 
critical  eye. 

"  One  shade  the  more,  one  ray  the  less, 
Had  half  impaired  its  nameless  grace." 

No  observer  however  acute  and  fastidious  can  |  oint  out  any  defect  in  this 
development  of  human  greatness.     Where  do  w  Id  grandeur  so  chastened 

by  humility  ;  patriotism,  by  self-renunciation  .   i .  \    fame,   by  humanity* 

and  worldly  glory,  by  piety.  He  was  brave  without  rashness  ;  firm  without 
cruelty  ;  patriotic  without  ambition  ;  and  pious  without  reproach.  To  depre- 
ciate the  talents  while  admitting  the  goodness  of  Washington,  does  no  injury 
save  to  the  detractor.  One  of  the  greatest  minds  of  England  pronounces  him 
"  the  greatest  man  of  our  own  or  of  any  age."  Guizot  says,  "  He  did  tho  two 
greatest  things  whichjn  politics  man  can  have  the  privilege  of  attempting. 


H 

He  maintained  by  peace  that  independence  of  his  country  which  he  acquired 
by  war.  He  founded  a  free  government  in  the  name  of  the  principles  of  order 
and  by  reestablishing  their  sway."  No  commander  ever  achieved  so  much 
for  mankind  with  such  slender  means  and  so  small  an  amount  of  human  suf- 
fering. He  was  never  at  the  head  of  hundreds  of  thousands  of  men,  yet  his 
military  operations  though  on  so  limited  a  scale,  compared  with  the  campaigns 
of  the  old  world,  show  nevertheless  very  great  ability.  "  The  statue  of  Her- 
cules cast  by  Lysippus,  though  only  a  foot  high,  expressed  the  muscles  and 
bones  of  the  hero  more  grandly  than  the  colossal  figures  of  other  artists." 

His  greatness  appears  no  less  in  what  he  did  not  than  in  what  be  actually 
performed.  Peace  has  its  triumphs  as  well  as  war.  No  fields  of  battle  can 
be  invested  with  such  grandeur  as  the  two  simple  closing  scenes  of  his  mili. 
tary  life.  The  parting  of  Napoleon  with  the  relic  of  the  old  guard  at  Fon- 
tainebleau  has  more  theatrical  show  but  less  sublimity,  than  the  affecting 
farewell  of  Washington  with  his  officers  at  Frances'  hotel  in  New  York,  when 
amid  tears  from  those  who  had  never  faltered  in  the  darkest  hours,  and  with 
his  own  emotions  too  strong  for  concealment,  he  said,  "  With  a  heart  full  of 
love  and  gratitude  I  now  take  my  leave  of  you.  I  most  devoutly  wish  that  your 
latter  days  may  be  as  prosperous  and  happy  as  your  former  ones  have  been 
glorious  and  honorable."  In  keeping  with  this  was  the  resigning  of  his  com- 
mission to  Congress,  a  scene  grand  in  its  simplicity,  which  as  meeting  us  in 
the  rotunda  of  the  Capitol  no  American  heart  can  contemplate  without  tears. 

"  Such  graves  as  bis  are  pilgrim  shrines, 

Shrines  to  no  age  or  creed  confined, 
The  Delphian  vales,  the  Palestines, 

The  Meccas  of  the  mind." 

What  though  in  our  country  we  have  no  work  like  the  Parthenon,  and  the 
statue  of  Minerva  or  of  Jupiter  Olympius?  We  can  take  the  stranger  into  a 
nobler  fabric,  the  temple  of  constitutional  freedom,  and  point  him  to  the  in- 
carnation of  more  than  the  wisdom  of  Minerva,  than  the  grandeur  of  the 
Olympian  Jupiter — Washington.  And  those  grouped  around  him  as  associates 
whether  in  the  duties  of  civil  or  military  life,  present  a  bearing  and  elevation 
of  character  worthy  of  the  majesty  of  the  cenral  figure  in  that  glorious  group. 
'On  every  occasion  like  this,  let  those  good  men  be  held  in  affectionate  remem- 
brance. When  an  enemy  in  command  of  a  British  frigate  moving  up  the 
Potomac  to  bombard  our  Capital  during  the  last  war,  could,  on  passing  Mount 
Vernon,  lower  his  topsails  in  reverence  for  the  illustrious  dead  ; — let  us  with 
deep  thankfulness  to  Heaven,  turn  aside  with  our  children,  and  confirm  our 
love  of  country  while  dropping  a  tear  at  his  venerated  grave. 

Again, — let  us  remember  these  institutions  and  this  territory  have  been 
given  us  in  trust  for  the  good  of  the  world.     Benefit  confers  obligation ;  and 


15 

the  principle,  "  None  of  us  liveth  to  himself,  and  no  man  dieth  to  himself," 
is  equally  true  of  nations.  After  securing  its  own  happiness,  every  nation  is 
bound  to  advance,  according  to  the  dictates  of  wisdom  and  prudence,  the  gen- 
eral happiness  of  the  world.  Other  empires  have  had  their  mission :  the 
United  States  have  been  raised  up  for  guarding  and  extending  the  blessings 
of  liberty  to  the  oppressed  and  enslaved  of  the  world.  Hence  the  extent  of 
territory  entrusted  to  us  and  the  remarkable  manner  in  which  this  territory 
was  held  in  reserve  by  Providence  till  the  fulness  of  time  had  come.  As  all 
men  are  not  fit  for  republicanism, — instead  of  setting  up  this  form  of  govern- 
ment amid  the  volcanic  elements  slumbering  in  the  populations  of  Europe, 
to  be  overthrown  as  in  France  and  become  a  derision  to  mankind, — God  has 
reared  a  republic  here  by  drawing  hither  the  best  blood  of  the  old  world  who 
were  capable  of  founding  and  giving  it  stability:  thi3  done,  He  seems  to  say  to 
the  down-trodden  of  every  people  and  clime,  Yonder  may  you  find  a  refuge 
from  tyranny  and  enjoy  the  most  perfect  freedom  possible  on  earth.  "Whose 
heart  does  not  warm  at  the  thought  that  we  have  been  able  even  now  to  wel- 
come to  our  shores  the  Hungarian  exiles,  and  send  one  of  the  finest  models  of 
a  steam  frigate  to  bring  their  leader  in  triumph  from  under  the  very  batteries 
of  European  despotism,  for  receiving  here  more  than  a  kingly  welcome.  No 
wonder  that  when  he  came  on  the  deck  over  which  floated  the  stripes  and 
stars,  and  saw  around  him  the  batteries  of  the  American  navy  manned  by 
stout  hearts  and  strong  arms  ready  to  defend  freedom  as  personified  in  him 
her  persecuted  son,  he  should  have  paused  with  emotion  and  found  utterance 
choked  with  tears. 

Contrast  this  country  as  the  asylum  of  liberty,  with  Russia  as  the  champion 
of  despotism,  and  think  which  holds  the  more  enviable  position.  The  ancients 
looked  with  interest  for  the  rising  of  a  constellation  reputed  to  have  the  power 
of  hushing  the  tempest  and  tranquilizing  the  sea:  over  the  turbulent  waves 
of  popular  commotion  and  the  angry  tide  of  tyranny,  that  constellation  has 
arisen  ;  it  burns  in  our  national  stars  which  seem  to  have  been  given  not 
without  design  for  our  emblem  as  the  beacon  of  the  world.  On  seeing  those 
stars,  many  rejoice  with  exceeding  great  joy.  Going  up  with  a  steady  rise, 
they  have  yet  dropped  no  one  from  their  number,  "We  have  not  the  pain  of 
searching  there  for  some  lost  Pleiad ;  we  see  the  beauty  of  the  group  steadily 
increased  by  new  stars  in  succession  breaking  on  the  view.  Our  country  is 
the  cynosure  of  the  oppressed  of  the  world.  And  we  feel  assurance  it  will 
continue  to  go  upward  with  a  steady  rise,  not  like  those  southern  constella- 
tions a  little  while  above  the  horizon,  then  going  down  in  continued  gloom  ; 
but  like  the  pole  star,  never  to  set;  or  like  the  morning  star,  the  forerunner 
of  that  dawn  of  coming  glory  to  which  prophecy  has  so  long  pointed,  when 


16 

darkness,  oppression,  and  tyranny  shall  find  no  shadow  of  death  where  to 
hide  themselves,  and  the  divine  light  of  heavenly  truth  which  has  made  us 
free,  shall  throw  its  rosy  mantle  over  all  lands,  and  people,  and  tongues.  My 
country, 

"  I  love  thee, — when  I  see  thee  stand, 
The  hope  of  every  other  land : 
A  sea-mark  in  the  tide  of  time, 
Rearing  to  heaven  thy  hrow  sublime. 

"I  love  thee, — next  to  heaven  above, 
Land  of  my  fathers'!  thee  I  love ; 
And  rail  thy  slanderers  as  they  will, 
With  all  thy  faults,  I  love  the  still." 

Over  the  formation  and  development  of  these  institutions,  a  kind  providence 
has  hitherto  watched  with  guardian  care.  He  who  from  heaven  protected 
these  things  in  the  tender  germ,  amid  the  bloodshed  of  Europe,  and  when 
borne  by  the  tempest  to  this  unbroken  wilderness ; — who  raised  up  such  men 
in  the  hour  of  trial ; — who  interfered  so  manifestly,  almost  miraculously,  in 
our  struggle  for  independence  ;  who  guided  our  armies  in  the  field  and  our 
representatives  in  their  deliberations  ; — He  is  continuing  to  protect  us,  and 
during  the  past  3rear,  has  shown  his  love  by  confirming  amid  threatening  dan- 
gers the  perpetuity  of  the  union,  and  turning  the  counsels  of  its  enemies  into 
foolishness.  That  the  integrity  of  the  Union  shall  be  threatened,  must  be 
expected  ;  that  all  such  efforts  will  be  frustrated,  the  past  gives  us  good  rea- 
son to  hope.  Institutions  which  like  these  have  been  the  growth  of  ages, — 
which  have  their  basis  i  truths  taught  in  the   scriptures, — which  have 

been  given  in  trust  for  the  benefit  of  the  world, — which  have  been  so  clearly 
guarded  by  a  divine  hand, — are  not  doomed  to  speedy  overthrow  or  decay. 
Let  the  friends  of  the  Union  be  true  to  their  charge  and  to  heaven,  and  all 
will  be  well.  Civil  government  is  at  best  a  compromise ;  our  Union  was 
founded  by  compromise,  and  only  by  measures  of  compromise  can  it  be  upheld 
Any  act  for  dissolving  the  Union  is  more  than  ordinary  treason.  It  is  treason 
against  the  interest  of  liberty  and  humanity  throughout  the  world  and  in  fu- 
ture ages. 

Fanaticism  is  a  thing  of  one  idea,  at  the  mercy  of  blind  and  impetuous  pas- 
sions: patriotism  is  a  spirit  of  enlarged  views  and  generous  sentiments,  ever 
happy  to  sacrifice  private  interests  and  preferences  for  the  public  good.  This 
looks  to  the  welfare  and  success,  not  of  its  own  little  society,  or  sect,  or  neigh- 
borhood, but  to  the  welfare  of  the  country  as  a  whole.  The  true  patriot  is 
the  man  who  loves  his  whole  country.  To  this  he  is  willing  to  sacrifice  his 
private  feelings  and  gain,  his  hopes  of  political  preferment,  and  even  his  life. 
He  uses  his  best  exertions  for  obtaining  the  enactment  of  the  most  salutary 


17 

laws  ;  but  when  laws  are  passed  not  according  to  his  mind,  he  bows  to  their 
supremacy  until  able  to  obtain  by  constitutional  means  their  repeal ;  or  fail* 
ing  in  this,  continues  to  stand  manfully  by  his  country,  and  discountenance 
under  all  circumstances,  even  the  appearance  of  resistance  to  the  constituted 
authorites.    He  will  not  forsake  the  ship  of  state  and  leap  into  the  sea,   do 
what  injury  he  can  to  the  vessel,  strive  to  break  it  into  fragments,  or  to  fire 
the  magazine,  because  it  may  not  be  steered  or  worked  entirely  according  to 
his  fancy,  or  because  he  cannot  have  regulations  repealed  that  were  in  forco 
when  he  came  on  board ;  but  feeling  his  interest  indentified  with  the  safety  of 
the  whole,  he  will  acquiesce  in  the  will  of  the  majority,  and  leave  the  direc- 
tion of  affairs  in  the  hands  where  it  has  been  entrusted.     His  is  the  sentiment 
of  Decatur,  "  Our  country,  may  she  always  be  right ;  but  right  or  wrong,  our 
country."    May  this  principle  ever  be  ours.    No  one  sect,  no  one  society,  no 
one  state,  constitutes  our  country.     The  assemblage  of  all  these  forms  the  na- 
tion ;  and  hence  the  design  of  the  government  is  to  consult  the  interest,  not 
of  any  one  of  these  as  dissevered  from  the  others,  but  of  the  whole  so  far  as 
that  interest  can  be  promoted  by  such  compromises  according  to  the  constitu- 
tion as  may  benefit  them  thus  in  union.     Far  be  it  from  us  to  be  so  influenced 
by  selfishness  and  fanaticism,  as  to  allow  a  wrong,  or  even  an  oppressive  act 
to  turn  us  against  our  country.     In  such  a  spirit,  there  is  more  of  the  temper 
of  Arnold  than  of  those  faithful  with  Washington.     "When  our  country  may 
seem  to  err,  we  will  stand  by  her  with  greater  faithfulness,  and  use  efforts  the 
more  strenuous  for  correcting  by  legal  means  the  error, — bowing  with  sub- 
mission to  the  supremacy  of  the  laws,  and  making  ours  the  principle,  Our 
country,  our  whole  country,  and  nothing  but  our  whole  country. 


j\    III  f  in  ana  I 


EDWARD   A.    WHARTON: 


A   SERMON 


PREACHED  IN  THE  P.RAINERD  CHURCH,  EASTON,  PENNSYLVANIA. 
On  Sabbath  Evening,  September  24,  1S54. 


BY   THE 

Rev    GEORGE  BURROWES,  D.  D. 


PROFESSOR   IN   LAFAVKTTE    COLLEGE. 


PUBLISHED    BY    THE    WASHINGTON    SOCIETY. 


PHILADELPHIA: 
WILLIAM    S.    MARTIEN. 

1854. 


rilj) 


<Gr-l= _■==; fj£) 


J   fUcmonal 


OP 


3 


EDWARD    A.    WHARTON: 


A   SERMON 

PREACHED  IN  THE  BRAINERD  CHURCH,  EASTON,  PENNSYLVANIA, 

On  Sabbath  Evening,  September  24,  1854. 


BY    THE 

Rev.  GEORGE  BURROWES,  D.  D. 


l'l;ul'l>snl;    IN   LAFAYETTE   COLLEGE. 


PUBLISHED    BY    THE    WASHINGTON    SOCIETY. 


PHILADELPHIA: 

WILLIAM    S.    MAR  TIEN 

1854. 


Washington  Hall,  September  25th,  1854. 
Rev.  George  Burrowes,  B.  B. 

Rev.  and  Dear  Sir: — At  a  meeting  of  the  Washington  Literary  Society,  held  this  afternoon. 

it  was  unanimously 

Resolved,   "That   a  Committee  of  three  he   appointed,  for  the   purpose   of  returning   the 

thanks  of  the  Society  to  the  Rev.  George  Burrowes,  B.  B.,  for  the  truly  eloquent  and  impressive 

discourse  delivered  hy  him,  relative  to  the  death  of  our  much  esteemed  fellow  member,  Edward 

A.  Wharton,  in  the  Brainerd  Church,  on  Sabbath  evening,  the  24th  inst.,  and  to  request  a 

copy  of  the  same  for  publication." 

The  undersigned,  in  accordance  with  the  grateful  task  assigned  them,  beg  leave  to  comply 

with  the  foregoing  resolution,  and  to  express  the  hope  that  you  will  see  fit  to  comply  therewith. 

as  they  are  well  satisfied  that  its  publication  will  tend  to  deepen  the  impression  created  by 

this  dispensation  of  an  All-wise  Providence. 

With  sentiments  of  high  respect, 

Your  obedient  servants, 

WILLIAM  M.  ALLISON, ' 

JOHN  M.  SULLIVAN, 

JOHN  C.  WILHELM, 


Lafayette  College,  Easton,  Pa.,  September  26th,  1854. 
Gentlemen  : 

I   am  happy  to  find  that  my  estimation  of  the  character  of  our   lamented  friend,  Mr. 

Wharton,  meets  with  your  approbation ;  and  as  you  think  the  publication  of  the  sermon  will 

do  good,  I  place  it  at  your  disposal. 

With  my  kindest  regards  for  the  members  of  your  Society,  I  am, 

Very  truly,  your  Friend, 

GEORGE  BURROWES. 

Messrs.  W.  M.  Allison, 

John  M.  Sullivan,  y  Committee. 

J.  C.  Wllhelm, 


MEMORIAL. 


WE  ALL  DO  FADE  AS  A  LEAF.— Isaiah  lxiv.  G. 

How  precious  is  the  sympathy  of  friends  in  sorrow.  Even 
when  they  cannot  relieve  our  distress,  and  the  cause  of  our 
anguish  is  too  deep  for  any  words  of  theirs  to  reach,  the  silent 
pressure  of  the  hand,  and  the  tear  gathered  in  the  compassion- 
ate eye,  telling  what  language  cannot  express,  goes  with  a 
soothing  blessedness  to  the  depths  of  the  heart,  and  sheds  an 
oil  of  gladness  through  the  wounded  spirit.  But  even  here  it 
is  more  blessed  to  give  than  to  receive.  Great  as  is  the 
happiness  of  feeling  sympathy  extended  to  us  in  sorrow,  it  is 
a  greater  blessedness  to  possess  a  sympathizing  heart,  and  be 
permitted  to  have  these  emotions  drawn  into  deep  and  health- 
ful action — to  go  to  the  disconsolate  and  make  them  feel  we 
enter  into  their  sorrows — to  sit  beside  the  weeping,  and  drop 
with  them  a  tear.  The  heartless  world  may  say  it  is  unmanly 
to  weep  ;  religion  teaches  it  is  godlike  to  feel  the  tenderness 
of  Him  who  mingled  with  the  sisters  of  Lazarus  his  tears. 

"For  to  the  heart  that  ever  felt  the  sting 
Of  sorrow,  sorrow  is  a  sacred  thing." 

This  sympathy  with  distress  is  one  of  the  features  of  the 
divine  image  in  the  soul,  obliterated  by  sin,  but  restored  by 

2 


grace;  so  that  he  who  grows  most  in  holiness  has  the  deepest 
feeling  for  the  distresses  of  others,  and  a  happiness  in  fulfilling 
the  command,  "Weep  with  those  that  weep."  Such  is  even 
unsanctified  human  nature,  that  common  suffering  begets  sym- 
pathy, and  creates  a  bond  of  union  strong  in  proportion  to  the 
distress.  But  when  this  divine  affection  has  been  revived  and 
made  tender  by  the  Holy  Spirit,  and  we  see  as  sinners,  our 
common  ruin,  and  feel  our  common  woe,  we  are  drawn  more 
closely  together  by  this  delicate,  but  powerful  bond;  when 
crucified  to  the  world,  we  sympathize  most  tenderly  with  those 
enduring  its  tribulations,  knowing  that  we  too  are  the  bonds- 
men of  grief,  that  the  sympathy  we  extend  to  others,  we  too 
shall  need  in  return,  for  "  we  all  do  fade  as  a  leaf,  and  our 
iniquities,  like  the  wind,  have  taken  us  away." 

In  this  passage,  the  prophet,  as  it  were,  viewing  Israel,  the 
Church,  in  a  state  of  desolation,  where  all  seemed  lost  in  the 
ruins  of  their  country,  as  immediately  before  the  birth  of 
Christ,  prays  that  God  would  come  down  to  deliver  his  people 
and  revive  his  work.  (v.  1.) — He  is  encouraged  by  considering, 
1.  That  it  was  easy  for  God  so  to  do,  even  to  make  the 
mountains  melt  at  his  presence,  (v.  1,)  the  greatest  obstacles 
to  vanish.  2.  That  this  would  honour  the  name  of  God  among 
the  heathen,  (v..  2.)  3.  He  had  done  great  things  for  them  in 
times  past,  (v.  3.)  4.  None  but  God  can  know  what  blessedness 
he  has  prepared  for  his  people;  therefore,  none  but  he  can 
work  out  for  them  that  blessedness,  and  none  can  prevent  him 
from  perfecting  the  salvation  of  his  saints,  (v.  4.)  5.  He  is 
always  ready  to  meet  every  one  who  works  righteousness,  who 
conforms  to  the  conditions  of  his  plan  of  salvation,  (v.  5.) 
There   is   then  an    acknowledgment   that  whatever    God  may 


thus  do,  must  be  done  as  a  favour,  because  we  are  all  sinners, 
(v.  6.)  "We  are  all  as  an  unclean  thing,"  defiled  like  the  leper, 
— our  spiritual  constitution  is  diseased.  As  the  result  of  this, 
our  actions,  even  the  best  of  them,  our  righteousnesses,  our 
excellences  and  good  deeds,  "are  as  filthy  rags."  In  conse- 
quence of  this  depravity  of  heart,  "  we  all  do  fade  as  a  leaf;" 
sin  brings  forth  the  bitter  fruits  of  death  in  all  our  powers, 
and  imparts  to  our  nature  the  sickly,  decaying  character  of  the 
fading  leaf.  This  native  depravity  is  universal — "  we  all  do 
fade  as  a  leaf."  And  like  the  falling  leaves  of  autumn  swept 
along  by  the  eddying  blasts  of  the  storm,  as  the  successive 
generations  of  men  wither  and  fall,  our  iniquities,  gathered 
into  tempests,  are  sweeping  us  away.  The  contemplation  of 
our  frailty  and  decay  is  painful,  yet  necessary,  salutary,  and 
wise.  The  prophet  mentions  it  for  calling  attention  to  God  as 
the  only  deliverer,  and  exciting  a  trust  in  his  redeeming  power. 
Smitten  by  the  distressing  dispensation  which  has  now  brought 
us  together,  let  us  receive  the  wisdom  it  was  designed  to 
impress,  and  gather  more  closely  to  Him  who  is  the  fountain 
of  life,  and  can  make  us,  in  our  decaying  state,  like  a  tree 
planted  by  rills  of  water,  whose  leaf  shall  not  wither. 

A  truth  so  important  as  that  of  our  frailty,  has  been  set 
before  us  in  many  points  of  view  by  the  Author  of  our  being. 
The  condition  of  the  whole  world  was  affected  by  the  fall  of 
man.  Then  the  habitation  was  changed  so  as  to  harmonize 
with  the  character  of  its  sinful  occupant  under  sentence  of 
death;  and  this  harmony  is  visible  in  its  blighted  loveliness, 
its  fading  beauty,  its  decaying  flowers,  and  withering  leaf. 
These  are  living  memorials  of  our  guilt  and  decay.  And 
when  the  Scriptures  take  up  these  comparisons  from  natural 


objects;  when  they  tell  us  that  our  "life  is  even  a  vapour 
that  appeareth  for  a  little  time,  and  then  vanisheth  away," 
James  iv.  14 ;  that  man  "  cometh  forth  like  a  flower,  and  is 
cut  down;  he  fleeth  also  as  a  shadow,  and  continueth  not," 
Job  xiv.  2;  that  "we  all  do  fade  as  a  leaf;" — they  are  not 
using  illustrations  at  random,  but  are  interpreting  the  lan- 
guage of  nature,  and  giving  us  the  meaning  wrapped  up  by 
the  Creator  in  those  beautiful  symbols.  Creation  is  beheld 
in  its  true  light,  not  by  the  man  who  goes  abroad  like  the 
brutes,  and  sees  in  all  things  nothing  more  than  a  prepara- 
tion for  meeting  the  mere  animal  wants  of  man ;  nor  even 
by  him  who  traces  out  the  philosophical  relations  of  things; 
but  by  the  man  who  in  addition  to  both  these  classes  of 
designs,  sees  in  all  things  that  highest  kind  of  knowledge, 
moral  truth  for  the  instruction  of  spiritual  beings.  "  Man 
shall  not  live  by  bread  alone."  The  fruit  got  from  the  tree 
whose  leaf  may  be  referred  to  in  the  text,  or  from  the  har- 
vest whose  grain  is  pointed  out  by  Paul  as  the  symbol  of 
the  resurrection,  is  not  the  only  thing  for  supporting  our 
life.  Truth  is  equally  necessary  for  supporting  our  spiritual 
nature.  And  hence  the  tree,  while  supplying  fruit  for  the 
body,  shade  to  protect,  and  fragrance  to  refresh  us,  is  formed 
so  as  to  convey  to  us,  among  other  truths,  the  lesson  written 
in  this  scripture.  A  lesson  so  natural  has  not  escaped  the 
eye  of  unaided  reason.     Homer  says, 

"Like  leaves  on  trees  the  race  of  man  is  found, 

Now  green  in  youth,  now  withering  on  the  ground; 

Another  race  the  following  spring  supplies ; 

They  fall  successive,  and  successive  rise: 

So  generations  in  their  course  decay." 

Some    one    has    said,    "flowers    are    the    alphabet    of    angels, 


9 

whereby  they  write  on  hills  and  dales  mysterious  truths." 
We  would  rather  say,  the  truths  of  revelation  and  of  nature 
form  pages  like  the  illuminated  volumes  of  the  dark  ages, 
wherein  great  skill  and  labour  were  bestowed  in  filling  the 
margin  with  devices  and  emblems  of  various  colouring  and 
forms,  illustrating  and  harmonizing  with  the  text:  and  in 
the  rich  scroll  which  the  hand  of  God  the  Creator  has 
unrolled  before  us,  written  full,  not  of  lamentations,  and 
mourning,  and  woe,  but  of  the  words  of  eternal  life — the 
sacred  Scriptures  are  the  text,  and  the  various  beauties  of 
creation — Spring,  with  its  landscape  of  flowers ;  Summer,  with 
its  golden  harvests;  the  mellow  shades  and  fading  hues  of 
Autumn ;  "Winter,  with  its  gloomy  desolation ;  the  wavy  mar- 
gin of  the  deep  blue  ocean;  the  clouds  that  gather  round 
the  setting  sun;  the  constellations  of  the  evening  sky; — all, 
all  are  but  the  illuminated  embellishments  of  this  volume  of 
revealed  truth,  gathering  new  beauty  and  instructiveness 
around  every  word  and  every  letter,  beyond  all  power  of 
imitation  by  human  genius  and  human  skill.  Nature  with- 
out revelation,  presents  a  more  pitiable  blank  than  those 
illuminated  manuscripts  with  all  the  embellishments  left  but 
the  writing  withdrawn.  It  is  often  remarked,  that  doubtless 
every  weed,  however  noxious,  contains  medicinal  properties, 
could  they  only  be  known.  We  may  feel  that  every  created 
thing,  every  circumstance,  has  embodied  in  it  by  the  Creator 
some  important  truth,  could  it  only  be  discovered.  Enlarge- 
ment of  our  powers  of  vision  by  the  microscope,  enables  us 
to  see  excpiisite  beauties  in  things  so  trifling  as  to  be  over- 
looked by  the  unaided  eye;  an  increase  in  our  powers  of 
spiritual  apprehension   would   cause  us  to  see  truth  in   things 


10 

now  neglected,  and  love  in  dealings  now  viewed  with  pain; 
to  see  that  not  only  the  decay  of  nature,  but  that  adversity, 
with  its  woes, 

"Though  like  the  toad,  ugly  and  venomous, 
Wears  yet  a  precious  jewel  in  its  head; 
Find  tongues  in  trees,  books  in  the  running  brooks, 
Sermons  in  stones,  and  good  in  everything." 

God  has  himself  revealed  to  us  the  lesson  written  on  the 
fading  leaf. 

1.  The  beauty  and  vigour  of  man  decay.  The  influence 
of  beauty  over  the  human  heart  has  ever  been  great,  and 
even  now  has  lost  none  of  its  power.  It  is  an  element  of 
perfection.  Where  there  is  perfect  holiness,  there  must  be 
perfect  beauty.  All  deformity  and  disease  of  body  has 
sprung  from  prior  deformity  and  disease  of  soul.  Hence 
the  Scriptures  speak  of  the  beauty  of  holiness;  and  the 
Redeemer  shall  beautify  the  meek  with  salvation.  In  the 
absence  of  moral  worth,  physical  beauty  is  a  hateful  thing. 
As  age  sobers  our  wisdom,  we  place  less  value  on  mere 
beauty  of  face  and  form ;  we  dwell  rather  on  the  more 
attractive  graces  of  the  heart.  These  stand  unchanged  by 
time ;  they  become  more  beauteous  with  the  advance  of 
age;  sorrow,  sickness,  bereavement,  the  tribulations  of  earth, 
develope  their  hidden  beauty,  and  draw  forth  their  hidden 
power.  Never  do  they  shine  with  such  attractive  lustre  as 
in  the  dying  saint,  when  the  last  remains  of  mortality  are 
crumbling  around  him,  and  his  liberated  soul  is  just  on  the 
wing  for  heaven.  But  what  is  more  fading  than  the  beauty 
which    the    world    so    much    covet    and    admire?      The    youth 


11 

Narcissus  of  the  ancient  fable,  enamoured  with  his  own  charms, 
tired  not  with  the  contemplation  of  himself  in  the  clear 
waters  of  a  fountain,  and  pined  away  as  he  gazed.  The 
reality  of  this  is  everywhere  visible.  And  this  strange 
weakness  does  not  depend  on  the  possession  of  beauty. 
Never  was  there  a  form,  however  ugly,  which  did  not  think 
itself  beautiful;  never  a  mind  so  weak,  a  soul  so  mean,  as 
not  to  be  proud  of  some  imaginary  endowment.  Multitudes 
who  would  blush  to  acknowledge  it,  live  in  the  constant 
cultivation  of  this  self-love  and  self-worship,  never  tired  with 
contemplating  their  own  form  in  a  glass,  using  every  means 
art  and  wealth  can  furnish  to  heighten  their  charms,  to  con- 
ceal their  blemishes,  and  to  draw  around  them  worshippers 
at  this  shrine  of  their  own  idolatry — self — who  may  offer 
there  the  incense  of  flattery  and  praise.  What  sums  are 
squandered  in  this  pitiable  folly.  In  the  very  gratification 
of  this  pride,  its  freshness  is  fading  away.  The  young  per- 
son who  now  prides  himself  or  herself  on  being  the  centre 
of  all  eyes,  sacrificing  thousands  to  dress  and  fashion,  nothing 
for  benevolence  and  piety,  shall  soon,  even  if  life  is  spared, 
find  the  paleness  of  old  age  on  the  cheek,  and  its  wrinkles 
on  the  brow;  and  even  the  good  looks,  of  which  she  is  so 
vain,  are  beginning,  in  the  very  spring-time  of  life,  to  fade 
as  a  leaf.  "Verily  every  man,  at  his  best  state,  is  alto- 
gether vanity.  Selah.  Thou  makest  his  beauty  to  consume 
away  like  a  moth.  They  dwell  in  houses  of  clay;  their 
foundation  is  in  the  dust;  they  are  crushed  before  the  moth. 
Thou  changest  his  countenance,  and  sendest  him  away." 

2.  Our  prospects  fade  like  the  leaf.     In  youth  our  sanguine 
feelings  and  the  flattery  of  self-love  people  the  future  with 


12 

bright  creations,  and  lead  us  to  feel  that  the  disquietudes  of  the 
present  will  be  left  with  the  past,  that  the  discomforts  of  youth 
will  be  lost  amid  the  pleasures  of  manhood,  that  the  distrac- 
tions of  middle  life  will  be  forgotten  in  the  tranquillity  of  a 
retired  old  age;  nothing  but  happiness  enters  into  our  calcula- 
tion, and  our  life  is  to  be  one  from  which  the  ordinary  ills  of 
humanity  are  to  be  excluded.  One  of  the  lessons  we  have  to 
learn,  is  that  these  prospects  are  deceptive.  They  too,  like 
everything  earthly,  do  fade  as  the  leaf.  "  Come  now,  ye  that 
say,  To-day  or  to-morrow  we  will  go  into  such  a  city,  and 
continue  there  a  year,  and  buy  and  sell,  and  get  gain : 
Whereas  ye  know  not  what  shall  be  on  the  morrow.  For  what 
is  your  life?  It  is  even  a  vapour  that  appeareth  for  a  little 
time,  and  then  vanisheth  away."  Jas.  iv.  14.  The  success 
you  expect  in  business,  may  prove  but  disaster ;  your  antici- 
pated wealth  be  set  aside  by  bankruptcy  ;  health  now  the  most 
robust,  may  unexpectedly  fail;  friends  fall  around  you  as  the 
fading  summer  leaf;  the  husband  of  your  love,  the  wife  of 
your  bosom,  from  whose  affection  you  are  expecting  so  much 
happiness,  may  prove  your  greatest  earthly  sorrow,  and  your 
heaviest  earthly  scourge ;  the  children  by  whom  you  are 
hoping  old  age  to  be  made  happy,  may  bring  down  your  grey 
hairs  in  sorrow  to  the  grave ;  your  son  of  brightest  promise 
may  live  long  enough  to  raise  your  expectations  and  blast 
them  by  death  on  the  threshold  of  a  promising  manhood;  your 
purposes  of  repentance  will  be  lost  amid  the  temptations  and 
business  of  coming  years,  and  your  death-bed  be  a  death- 
bed of  gloom ;  ere  the  spring  of  youth  is  closed,  "  your  way  of 
life  may  be  fallen  into  the  sear  and  yellow  leaf;"  and  your 
career,  now  opening  bright  as  the  cloudless  summer  morning, 


13 

will  close  in  hopeless  impenitence,  under  the  displeasure  of 
heaven,  like  the  sun  of  that  day  of  promise,  going  down  amid 
clouds,  and  tempests,  and  lightning,  and  thunder,  and  gloom. 

3.  Our  pleasures  fade  as  the  leaf.  In  the  first  freshness  of 
enjoyment,  there  is  a  lively  delight  in  earthly  pleasures.  But 
soon  they  begin  to  satiate,  and  we  find  at  last,  that  the  same 
principle  of  decay  pervades  them  all.  While  the  trees  of  earth- 
ly enjoyment,  in  such  various  kinds,  are  scattered  along  our 
way  with  fruits  so  tempting  in  the  distance,  they  are  no  sooner 
plucked  than  they  begin  to  wither,  and  lose  their  freshness 
before  they  reach  our  lips.  Has  anything  heretofore  desired, 
met  your  expectations?  Never  yet  have  you  found  at  any 
party,  on  any  card-table,  at  any  ball,  at  any  opera,  in  any 
theatre,  at  any  fashionable  gathering,  in  the  splendour  of  any 
magnificent  dress,  in  any  promenade  among  the  showy  and  the 
gay,  that  for  which  you  were  seeking.  All  these  things,  like 
the  sensitive  plant,  withered  at  your  approach,  were  found 
faded  in  your  grasp,  and  you  turned  from  them  with  wonder 
and  sadness  at  your  disappointment.  In  later  life,  often  before 
middle-life,  the  man  of  pleasure,  the  devotee  of  fashion,  the 
youth  who  has  courted  dissipation,  the  female  whose  life  has 
been  exhausted  in  studying  to  set  off  her  charms  and  win 
admirers,  find  themselves  with  those  old  desires  made  rigid  and 
insatiable  by  habit,  and  the  means  of  pleasure  from  their  grati- 
fication proportionally  abated;  the  powers  blunted  by  over- 
gratification,  cease  to  receive  their  indulgence  with  so  high  a 
zest;  and  around,  valueless  and  almost  unheeded,  faded  plea- 
sures are  gathering  and  falling  like  withered  leaves.  We  stand 
on  the  shady  bank  of  a  stream,  as  the  yellow  leaves  are  falling 
on  its  waters,  placid  beneath  the  rich  sunlight  of  an  autumn 
3 


14 

sky,  and  see  them  float  noiselessly  away;  so  do  our  faded 
pleasures  fall  around  us  on  the  stream  of  time,  and  are  soon 
borne  beyond  the  reach  of  memory  to  sink  in  the  ocean  of 
oblivion. 

4.  Our  mental  powers  do  fade  as  the  leaf.  A  life  of 
impenitence  is  a  continual  wasting  away  of  the  spiritual  powers 
of  man.  The  intellectual  faculties  may  often  burn  with  great 
brilliancy,  but  in  the  absence  of  the  fear  of  God,  this  very 
vigour  gives  a  beauty  like  the  hectic  flush  on  the  cheek  of  the 
consumptive,  consuming  the  vitality  of  the  system,  while  excit- 
ing the  admiration  of  those  around.  Education  and  culture  may 
counteract,  to  some  extent,  this  decay;  but  the  seeds  of  death 
are  there;  even  if  the  man  do  not  waste  away  his  powers 
prematurely  by  the  corroding  effects  of  dissipation,  he  will  find 
them  failing  under  the  withering  blight  of  sickness,  or  the 
gathering  frosts  of  age.  And  when  we  look  at  cases  like  the 
greatest  of  English  statesmen,  William  Pitt,  a  wreck  in  the 
prime  of  manhood;  or  Robert  Hall,  with  his  magnificent  mind 
and  matchless  eloquence,  a  maniac  in  the  vigour  of  his  days ; 
or  Robert  Southey,  standing  in  the  proudest  position  among 
literary  men,  with  the  mind  that  had  charmed  nations,  sinking 
into  the  imbecility  of  a  second  childhood;  we  are  made  to  feel 
that  even  in  the  possession  of  the  highest  intellectual  powers, 
there  is  nothing  beyond  the  reach  of  decay ;  for  even  these  do 
fade  as  a  leaf. 

And  what  on  earth  does  not  wither  and  decay?  Its  pomp 
and  power,  its  kingdoms  and  crowns,  its  pyramids  and  palaces, 
its  noble  cities  with  their  gates  of  brass,  its  trophies  and 
mausoleums  of  kingly  marble,  all,  all  fading  and  crumbling  to 
dust. 


15 

"  All  flesh  is  grass,  and  all.  its  glory  fades 
Like  the  fair  flower  dishevel'd  in  the  wind; 
Riches  have  wings,  and  grandeur  is  a  dream ; 
The  man  we  celebrate  must  find  a  tomb, 
And  we  that  worship  him,  ignoble  graves. 
Nothing  is  proof  against  the  general  curse 
Of  vanity,  that  seizes  all  below. 
The  only  amaranthine  flower  on  earth 
Is  virtue,  the  only  lasting  treasure,  truth. 
But  what  is  truth?" 

The  Son  of  God,  the  eternal  Word,  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  says, 
"I  am  the  way  and  the  truth."  Among  the  hills  and  valleys 
of  our  earth,  filled  with  ruins  and  death,  that  voice  is  still 
moving  in  animating  reverberations,  which  was  first  heard  over 
the  grave  of  Lazarus,  "I  am  the  resurrection  and  the  life:  he 
that  believeth  on  me,  though  he  were  dead,  yet  shall  he  live." 
In  this  day  there  is  a  fountain  opened — to  the  house  of  David 
and  to  the  inhabitants  of  Jerusalem  only?  nay,  to  the  whole 
world — for  sin  and  for  uncleanness.  And  from  heaven  the 
invitation  comes — and  they  are  the  last  words  that  heaven  has 
spoken  to  earth,  or  that  heaven  will  speak  to  earth,  before  the 
judgment — "  Whosoever  will,  let  him  take  the  water  of  life 
freely."  Rev.  xxii.  17.  "And  the  blood  of  Jesus  Christ  his 
Son  cleanseth  us  from  all  sin."  1  John  i.  7.  "Though  your 
sins  be  as  scarlet,  they  shall  be  white  as  snow;  though  they  be 
red  like  crimson,  they  shall  be  as  wool."  Isa.  i.  18.  Here, 
your  fading  beauty  may  be  restored ;  here,  your  wasting  vigour 
renewed.  While  the  weary  invalid  betakes  himself  to  the 
waters  of  some  celebrated  medicinal  spring,  or  to  the  reviving 
air  of  the  summer  ocean  and  the  refreshing  plunge  of  its 
cooling  waves;  the  fainting  soul,  burdened  with  guilt,  comes 


1(3 

here,  to  a  fountain  of  power  more  healing  than  Siloa's  brook  or 
Bethesda's  pool,  and  rises  with  his  whole  spiritual  nature 
renewed,  in  a  freshness  of  beauty  beyond  that  of  Naaman  at 
the  waters  of  Jordan,  from  his  baptism  in  the  waves  of  that 
ocean  of  love  and  grace,  and  heavenly  breezes  of  the  Holy 
Spirit,  to  which  Jesus  has  opened  a  new  and  living  way. 
"Whence  we  also  look  for  the  Saviour,  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ; 
who  shall  change  our  vile  body  that  it  may  be  fashioned  like 
unto  his  glorious  body."  Phil.  iii.  21.  "According  to  his 
promise,  we  look  for  a  new  heavens  and  a  new  earth,  wherein 
dwelleth  righteousness."  2  Pet.  iii.  13.  "Beloved,  now  are 
we  the  sons  of  God;  and  it  doth  not  yet  appear  what  we  shall 
be ;  but  we  know  that  when  he  shall  appear,  we  shall  be  like 
him;  for  we  shall  see  him  as  he  is."  1  John  iii.  2. 

Like  the  leaf  which  came  forth  with  the  opening  spring, 
our  beloved  young  friend  was  with  us  then  in  all  the  vigour 
and  promise  of  youth;  but  now,  alas,  he  is  faded  and  fallen, 
like  the  leaf  that  is  withered  and  rustling  by  his  grave.  In 
this  dispensation,  which  has  filled  so  many  hearts  with  sor- 
row and  so  many  eyes  with  tears,  let  us  have  the  melancholy 
pleasure  of  gathering  up  the  remembrance  of  his  virtues, 
and  open  our  hearts  to  the  instruction  his  early  removal 
was  intended  to  impress. 

Edward  A.  Wharton,  son  of  Col.  S.  S.  Wharton,  was 
born  in  Huntingdon,  Pennsylvania,  January  14th,  1835.  He 
was  the  son  of  pious  parents.  His  studies,  preparatory  to 
entering  college,  were  pursued  at  the  Milnwood  Academy, 
under  the  care  of  the  Rev.  J.  Y.  McGinnis.  In  a  revival 
of  religion  at  that  institution  in  1851,  he  became  a  subject 
of  redeeming  grace,  and  connected  himself  with  the  Presby- 


terian  Church.  He  entered  the  Freshman  Class  of  this 
college  in  March,  1852,  and  continued  his  studies  without 
interruption,  and  in  the  best  of  health,  until  the  26th  of  last 
May,  when  he  was  confined  with  a  lingering  fever.  After 
weeks  of  tedious  suffering,  he  fell  asleep  in  Jesus,  on  Monday, 
August  7th,  in  the  twentieth  year  of  his  age. 

It  is  not  the  lives  of  men  most  distinguished  by  startling 
adventures  that  are  of  most  value  to  the  world  at  large  as 
examples.  The  life  of  Caesar,  or  Hannibal,  or  Bonaparte,  is 
of  no  importance  to  us  as  a  model  in  the  pursuit  of  integrity, 
virtue,  and  piety.  We  may  be  interested  in  the  startling 
events  of  their  career;  but  they  moved  in  a  sphere  so  very 
different  from  ours,  that  we  can  hardly  draw  from  them  a 
single  lesson  of  practical  wisdom  applicable  to  our  own  con- 
dition. The  brief  pilgrimage  of  our  departed  friend,  though 
marked  by  no  variety  of  romantic  incidents,  furnishes  more 
real  wisdom  for  the  young  before  me,  than  all  the  biographies 
of  all  the  Caesars.  He  lived  the  life  that  we  are  living; 
and  what  he  was  in  many  respects,  we  may  well  desire  to 
become. 

He  was  remarkable  for  deference  to  parental  authority. 
Among  the  elements  forming  the  basis  of  a  life  useful  and 
happy  in  its  intercourse  with  men,  the  wise  man  lays  down, 
in  the  first  chapter  of  Proverbs,  three  things,  as  the  first 
principles  of  human  conduct.  They  are  the  fear  of  God, 
obedience  to  parents,  and  the  avoiding  of  bad  company.  In 
all  these  things,  our  young  friend  was  eminent.  From 
infancy  he  had  always  been  a  blameless  boy.  He  never 
manifested  a  disposition  to  take  the  reins  of  authority  from 
the  hands  of  his  parent.     It  was  his  pleasure  to  fulfil  every 


18 

parental  injunction,  and  anticipate  every  parental  desire. 
How  many  of  you  are  there  of  whom  your  parent  can  say, 
as  his  father  said  of  him,  "I  never  knew  him  to  disobey  me." 
In  these  times,  when  disregard  of  parental  authority  is  one 
of  the  crying  evils  of  our  land,  and  the  happiness  of  so 
many  families  is  embittered  by  the  unfeeling  conduct  of  chil- 
dren, it  is  refreshing  to  pause  and  contemplate  an  example 
like  his.  Disobedience  ever  meets  with  retribution ;  such 
conduct  as  his  receives  its  reward.  Herodotus  mentions  a 
Grecian  priestess  who  had  to  be  conveyed  to  the  temple  at 
some  distance  from  Argos,  to  officiate  at  a  sacred  festival; 
and  as  the  oxen  were  not  at  hand,  her  two  sons  drew  the 
chariot  in  their  stead,  as  an  act  of  filial  piety.  She  prayed 
the  goddess  to  bestow  on  them  the  richest  reward  possible 
for  mortals;  and  in  answer  to  her  prayer,  her  sons  lying 
down  to  rest  in  the  temple,  fell  into  a  sleep  from  which 
they  never  awoke.  After  a  youth  adorned  with  filial  love 
and  duty,  our  friend  has  fallen  asleep  in  Jesus,  in  the  vesti- 
bule of  that  heavenly  temple,  "whose  portal  we  call  death." 
As  might  be  expected,  this  reverence  towards  parents,  the 
neglect  of  which  is  the  root  of  every  vice,  was  in  his  case 
connected  with  great  amiability  of  character.  He  often 
reminded  me  of  the  young  man  of  whom  it  is  written,  "  Then 
Jesus  beholding  him,  loved  him."  Mark  x.  21.  He  was  not 
one  of  those  captious,  complaining  spirits,  who,  being  all  ajar 
themselves,  keep  all  persons  and  things  around  them  in  a 
state  of  disorder  and  unhappiness ;  whose  first  natural  impulse 
is  to  contradict  and  oppose;  and  whose  better  feelings,  when 
they  have  any,  are  a  later  and  secondary  growth.  There 
was    no  jaundiced    humour    in    his    eye;    it   was    limpid    with 


19 

kindness,  and  threw  over  everything  the  line  of  benevolence 
and  love.  Just  as  a  fretful  disposition  at  home,  and  inso- 
lence towards  parents,  prepares  for  peevishness  to  strangers, 
and  arrogance  abroad,  so  his  filial  goodness  brought  forth 
the  fruits  of  gentleness  and  kindness  in  society.  His  asso- 
ciates loved  him,  as  they  felt  the  strength  of  this  amiability 
based  on  principle;  strangers  were  attracted  by  his  bearing; 
children  gathered  around  him  with  gladness,  and  said  they 
loved  him  because  he  noticed  them  so  kindly,  and  always 
took  their  part.  And  it  was  the  beauty  of  this  trait,  that 
it  was  not  a  mere  negative  thing,  but  in  alliance  with  great 
energy  of  character  and  purpose,  when  roused  by  a  sufficient 
cause.  While  even  too  many  young  persons  are  like  Nabal, 
who  was  such  a  son  of  Belial  that  a  man  could  not  speak  to 
him ;  and  to  no  persons  greater  churls  than  to  their  parents ; 
he  had  a  temper  of  remarkable  evenness  and  loveliness,  and 
when  roused,  still  under  perfect  control. 

He  possessed  by  nature,  in  a  very  high  degree,  feelings  of 
delicacy  and  honour.  Some  persons  seem  born  gentlemen ; 
others  are  natural  churls.  His  inherent  bias  was  towards  what 
is  noble  and  gentlemanly.  No  one  acquainted  with  him  would 
have  suspected  him  of  any  unhandsome  conduct.  He  could 
not  have  done  a  dishonourable  deed  had  he  tried.  Anything 
deceptive,  trickish,  or  mean,  was  the  object  of  his  scorn.  His 
aims  were  honourable;  his  means  were  pure.  He  felt  that  the 
most  elevated  code  of  honour  is  that  which  is  built  on  the 
principle,  "  All  things  whatsoever  ye  would  that  men  should  do 
unto  you,  do  ye  even  so  to  them."  This  had  with  him  its 
attending  delicacy  for  the  feelings  of  others.  So  habitual  was 
this,  that  in  no  situation  was  it  forgotten.     He  was  never  so  ill 


20 

as  to  overlook  the  little  civilities  of  life  to  those  who  attended 
him  in  his  sickness.  Shortly  before  his  death,  when  friends 
were  standing  around  his  bed  weeping,  as  he  had  just  recovered 
from  one  of  those  paroxysms  which  appeared  death  in  all  its 
terrors,  unconscious  of  the  struggle  through  which  he  had 
passed,  his  eye  rested  on  a  lady  who  was  standing  by  his  bed- 
side, and  ministering  to  his  wants ;  and  with  a  delicacy  which, 
under  the  circumstances,  was  deeply  affecting,  he  expressed  his 
fears  that  she  would  be  wearied  with  her  efforts.  This  native 
feeling  was  refined  by  education  and  christian  principle.  He 
was  careful  of  the  feelings  of  others.  Though  possessing  a 
playful  wit,  that  could  be  made  to  tell  with  effect,  he  kept  it 
under  control,  and  avoided  wounding  the  sensibility  of  his  asso- 
ciates. 

He  was  a  young  man  of  great  purity  of  heart.  Perhaps  he 
had  this  trait  in  as  full  a  degree,  by  nature,  as  ever  falls  to  the 
lot  of  our  fallen  humanity.  There  was  something  in  his  very 
complexion  and  appearance,  a  fineness,  as  it  were,  in  the  earth 
of  which  his  body  was  formed,  that  seemed  to  harmonize  with 
this  inward  purity.  Intemperance,  with  gaming  and  the  kin- 
dred rabble-rout  of  youthful  vices — who  would  ever  think  of 
naming  them  in  connection  with  Edward  A.  Wharton  ?  Those 
who  have  seen  him  in  situations  peculiarly  adapted  to  put  his 
principles  to  the  test,  can  answer,  that  with  him  no  coarse  and 
ribald  jest,  no  word  calculated  to  bring  a  blush  to  the  cheek  of 
delicacy,  no  perversion  of  Scripture  to  create  merriment,  ever 
found  favour.  His  conduct  fulfilled  the  ideas  of  Isaac  Walton : 
"Good  company  and  good  discourse  are  the  very  sinews  of 
virtue.  That  man  is  not  to  me  a  good  companion ;  for  most  of 
his  conceits  were  either  Scripture-jests  or  lascivious-jests;  for 


21 

which  I  count  no  man  witty ;  for  the  devil  will  help  a  man  that 
way  inclined,  to  the  first;  and  his  own  corrupt  nature,  which 
he  always  carries  with  him,  to  the  latter.  A  companion  that  is 
cheerful,  and  free  from  swearing  and  scurrilous  discourse,  is 
worth  gold."  Such  a  companion  was  the  deceased  to  those 
who  enjoyed  his  friendship.  "Blessed  are  the  pure  in  heart, 
for  they  shall  see  G-ed." 

He  was  remarkable  for  his  modesty.  This  beautiful  trait 
threw  over  his  other  endowments  a  delightful  charm.  Free 
from  the  mawkishness  which  under  the  name  of  modesty  seeks 
to  disguise  a  sickly  vanity  or  pride,  and  which,  when  shrinking 
from  public  duty  or  society,  does  so  only  because  fearing  its 
success  may  not  be  commensurate  with  its  ambitious  desires — 
he  was  equally  free  from  the  presumption  which  is  so  offensive, 
and  often  shows  itself  with  such  repulsiveness  in  the  young. 
He  knew  the  place  that  belongs  to  youth,  and  under  the 
control  of  that  strong  good  sense  which  seemed  in  him  almost 
an  instinct,  he  quietly  fulfilled  the  duties,  and  met  all  the 
requirements  of  his  position,  without  assumption  or  neglect. 
His  judgments  were  sober  and  sensible ;  there  was  a  steadiness 
and  dignity  in  his  bearing  beyond  his  years.  Yet  he  deferred 
with  becoming  delicacy  to  the  wisdom  of  the  more  experienced, 
and  felt  that  the  place  of  youth  is  to  learn,  not  to  lead.  He 
was  free  from  a  fault  very  common,  an  over-estimate  of  himself 
and  his  powers.  He  conformed  to  the  command,  "Not  to 
think  of  himself  more  highly  than  he  ought  to  think,  but  to 
think  soberly."  Had  he  possessed  some  of  the  self-confidence 
of  which  some  young  persons  have  such  an  overflowing  supply, 
it  might  have  been  to  his  advantage.  His  great  modesty 
sometimes  led  to  a  distrust  of  himself,  and  thereby  to  a  failure 
4 


22 

to  bring  out  fully  his  powers.  Possessing  a  noble  form,  which 
might  have  been  singled  out  among  a  multitude  as  one  of  the 
finest  specimens  of  health  and  manly  beauty,  he  never  showed 
by  his  bearing  or  actions  that  he  was  aware  of  anything  about 
him  likely  to  draw  attention  or  admiration.  Others  might 
possess  talents  marked  by  more  brilliancy ;  few  have  such  a 
combination  of  valuable  endowments,  fitted  to  carry  them 
through  life  with  confidence,  usefulness,  affection,  and  success. 

His  patience  under  suffering  was  worthy  of  admiration. 
Those  young  persons  who  are  impatient  of  the  least  disappoint- 
ment in  realizing  their  coveted  pleasures ;  who  seem  to  think 
all  nature  should  stand  or  fly  at  their  nod;  and  who,  when 
thwarted  in  anything,  show  on  a  smaller  scale  the  same  spirit 
which  led  Xerxes  to  scourge  the  Hellespont  and  try  to  fetter 
the  waves — might  have  learned  a  wholesome  lesson  had  they 
been  with  him  in  his  closing  days.  With  the  best  of  health 
and  life  opening  before  him  with  flattering  promises  of  wealth, 
respectability,  and  ease,  he  felt  the  chill  dews  blighting  his 
hopes,  he  saw  those  pleasing  prospects  fade,  and  bowed  to  the 
allotment  without  a  murmur  or  complaint.  And  when,  on  our 
national  anniversary,  he  was  propped  up  in  bed  that  his  sunken 
eye  might  look  down  on  the  festivities  in  the  town  below;  and 
when,  on  the  evening  of  the  Junior  exhibition,  his  companions 
were  going  to  the  public  gathering,  and  though  he  had  been 
selected  by  his  society  as  one  of  the  orators,  he  was  left  behind 
with  but  a  friend  or  two  in  the  chamber  of  sickness ;  and  when, 
on  the  morning  of  commencement,  as  we  gathered  at  prayers 
for  the  last  time  during  the  session,  all  of  us  were  heavy  with 
sorrow,  and  some  of  us  were  bathed  in  tears,  and  he,  instead  of 
leaving  with  you  to  meet  the  open  arms  and  affectionate  hearts 


23 

of  home,  had  on  that  very  day,  his  parent  brought  to  his  bed- 
side to  watch  the  dying  moments  of  a  loved  and  promising  son ; 
in  the  midst  of  all,  those  of  us  who  were  with  him  continually 
never  heard  from  him  a  word  of  impatience  or  a  repining 
breath.  Amid  the  general  gloom,  there  was  shining  yet 
brighter  and  brighter  in  his  sick  room,  "the  ornament  of  a 
meek  and  quiet  spirit." 

He  was  a  Christian.  In  his  character,  this  was  the  crown 
of  pure  gold  on  the  head,  amid  so  many  attractive  virtues. 
He  had  been  more  than  three  years  a  member  of  the  church, 
and  during  that  time,  had  maintained  the  walk  of  a  consist- 
ent Christian.  The  religious  exercises  of  persons  take  a 
colouring  from  their  natural  disposition;  and  his  piety  was 
marked  by  the  same  modesty,  calmness,  good  sense,  and  con- 
sistency, which  had  from  early  childhood  distinguished  his 
conduct.  During  his  illness,  his  heart  rested  with  calmness 
and  confidence  on  the  Saviour  who  had  loved  him  so  well. 
And  when,  on  reviving  from  a  sinking  state  which  we  all 
all  thought  death,  a  lady  at  his  bedside  asked  him  if  he  still 
felt  Jesus  precious,  none  present  will  forget  the  heavenly 
mildness  and  beauty  with  which  he  expressed  his  assurance 
of  the  preciousness  and  presence  of  the  Good  Shepherd  with 
him  even  there,  far  down  amid  the  chills  and  gloom  of  the 
valley  of  the  shadow  of  death.  None  of  us  thought,  until  a 
few  days  before  his  death,  that  his  end  was  nigh;  to  himself 
it  was  unexpected.  Yet  the  midnight  cry  found  him  ready ; 
and  leaving  behind  the  toils,  the  temptations,  the  sorrows  of 
suffering  humanity,  he  passed  away,  amid  the  quiet  of  a 
summer  noon,  to  the  sabbatical  repose  that  remaineth  for 
the  people  of  God.     In  the  evening  of  that  day,  sympathizing 


24 

friends  gathered  in  the  college  chapel  around  his  form,  yet 
beautiful  in  death,  mingling  their  tears  with  those  of  the 
weeping  father  and  brother,  in  the  services  of  religion,  yet 
sorrowing  not  as  those  that  have  no  hope.  A  few  weeks 
before,  one  had  been  there  in  all  the  vigour  of  youth  and 
buoyancy  of  hope;  but  now  where  was  he? 

"He  that  hath  found  some  fledged  bird's  nest  may  know, 
At  first  sight,  if  the  bird  be  flown; 
But  what  fair  field  or  grove  he  sings  in  now, 
That  is  to  him  unknown." 

0  could  there  be  a  doubt  where  he  was  gone  ?     No — no. 

"There,  in  the  twilight  cold  and  grey, 
Lifeless,  but  beautiful,  he  lay, 
And  from  the  sky  serene  and  far, 
A  voice  fell  like  a  falling  star — 

Excelsior!     With  Jesus!" 

There  is  somewhere  an  oriental  apologue,  that  a  gardener 
was  entrusted  by  his  Lord  with  the  cultivation  among  others 
of  one  flower  of  remarkable  beauty  and  value,  which  he 
watched  with  special  affection  and  unwearying  care.  One 
morning  he  missed  it  in  his  walk,  and  was  deeply  grieved. 
He  was  told  the  owner  had  taken  it;  and  he  was  silent. 

Did  time  permit,  I  would  speak  of  those  young  friends 
who  so  kindly  and  faithfully  ministered  to  his  wants  through 
a  lingering  illness.  You  did  well.  You  shall  not  lose  your 
reward.  "  With  what  measure  ye  mete,  it  shall  be  measured 
to  you  again."  When  your  season  of  suffering  comes,  and 
the  hands  which  held  the  sinking  head  and  wet  the  fevered 
lips   of   this    dying   child    of   God,   are  cold   and  nerveless   in 


25 

approaching  death,  Jesus  will  gather  around  you  those  who 
will  attend  you  with  equal  faithfulness.  ''Whosoever  shall 
give  to  drink  unto  one  of  these  little  ones  a  cup  of  cold 
water  only,  in  the  name  of  a  disciple,  verily  I  say  unto  you, 
he  shall  in  no  wise  lose  his  reward."   Matt.  x.  41. 

My  young  friends,  can  I  say  anything  that  will  add  to 
the  appeal  which  this  touching  dispensation  makes  to  you 
as  sinners  needing  repentance?  There  are  times  when  it 
seems  the  part  of  wisdom  to  pause  in  silence  and  hearken 
to  the  voice  of  God.  I  can  add  nothing  to  the  impressive- 
ness  of  the  tones  here  spoken  to  your  hearts.  What  more 
can  be  done  for  bringing  you  to  repentance?  To  the  warn- 
ings and  invitations  of  anxious  instructors,  and  prayerful 
fathers,  and  loving  mothers,  He  who  wills  not  that  any 
should  perish,  has  added  this  last  appeal.  "  Remember  now 
thy  Creator  in  the  days  of  thy  youth,  while  the  evil  days 
come  not,  nor  the  years  draw  nigh,  when  thou  shalt  say,  I 
have  no  pleasure  in  them."  Eccl.  xii.  1. 


TESTIMONIAL  OF  RESPECT. 


At  a  meeting  of  the  Washington  Literary  Society,  on  Tuesday, 
September  8,  1854,  the  following  preamble  and  resolutions  were 
unanimously  adopted : 

Whereas,  In  the  inscrutable  dispensations  of  his  providence,  Al- 
mighty God  has  been  pleased  to  remove  from  among  us  our  beloved 
fellow  member,  Edward  A.  Wharton,  of  Huntingdon,  Pa.,  there- 
fore, 

Resolved,  That  in  his  death  the  Washington  Literary  Society  has 
lost  one  of  its  most  valuable  members,  whose  pride  it  was  to  maintain 
her  interests  and  preserve  her  good  name;  truth  a  steadfast  defender; 
justice  an  advocate;  honour  a  guardian;  friendship  an  ornament; 
filial  piety  and  fraternal  love  one  of  their  most  exemplary  representa- 
tives. 

Resolved,  That  from  our  connection  with  him  as  fellow  members  of 
the  same  Society,  classmates  and  companions,  during  the  last  two  and 
a  half  years,  we  have  witnessed  that  his  life  was  one  of  exalted  princi- 
ple: with  "wisdom,  friendship,  and  virtue,"  for  his  motto,  he  took 
for  his  guide  the  truth  of  the  gospel:  confiding  in  Him  to  whose 
mercy  he  trusted,  and  at  whose  altar  he  had  registered  his  vows,  he 
endured  a  tedious  illness  with  Christian  patience,  with  pious  thank- 
fulness for  the  attentions  of  kind  and  sympathizing  friends,  and  with 
calm  submission  to  the  will  of  Him  who  doeth  all  things  well. 

Resolved,  That  we  tender  our  expressions  of  deep  condolence  to  the 
bereaved  father  and  brother,  and  other  surviving  friends;  and  cherish 
a  melancholy  satisfaction  in  sympathizing  with  them  in  their  irrepara- 
ble loss. 

Resolved,  That  copies  of  these  resolutions  be  transmitted  to  the 
friends  of  the  deceased,  and  be  published  in  the  Presbyterian,  Pres- 
byterian Banner,  and  in  the  papers  of  Ikston  and  Huntingdon. 

H.  D.  T.  Kerr,         ^ 
VvrM.  M.  Allison,      V  Committee. 
John  M.  Sullivan,  J 


TRIBUTE  OF  RESPECT. 

At  a  meeting  of  the  students  of  Lafayette  College,  held  September 
9th,  the  following  preamble  and  resolutions  were  unanimously  adopted : 

Whereas,  It  has  pleased  an  All-wise  Providence  to  remove  from 
our  midst  an  esteemed  friend  and  fellow  student,  Edward  A.  Whar- 
ton, therefore, 

Resolved,  That  by  his  removal  we  have  sustained  the  loss  of  one, 
who  by  his  generous  and  honourable  bearing,  gentlemanly  demeanour, 
friendly  conduct,  virtuous  habits,  and  amiable  disposition,  had  en- 
deared himself  to  us  all  as  a  classmate  and  companion. 

Resolved,  That  from  our  association  with  the  deceased  during  his 
connection  with  College,  we  feel  a  saddened  pleasure  in  thus  being 
able  to  tender  our  sympathies  and  condolence  to  the  family  and 
friends  in  this  their  melancholy  bereavement. 

Resolved,  That  the  dispensation  which  has  struck  down  so  unex- 
pectedly one  who  was  in  the  enjoyment  of  robust  health,  and  gave 
promise  of  a  vigorous  and  noble  manhood,  calls  on  us  to  feel  the 
extreme  uncertainty  of  life,  and  in  the  days  of  youthful  hope,  to 
remember  the  Creator  and  Redeemer  to  whom  he  had  consecrated 
himself  in  earlier  years. 

Resolved,  That  a  copy  of  these  resolutions  be  sent  to  the  bereaved 
family  and  friends,  and  that  they  be  forwarded  for  publication  in  the 
Huntingdon  and  Easton  papers,  Presbyterian,  and  Banner. 

Wm.  M.  Allison,  Chairman. 

C.  M.  Andrews, 

R.  P.  Allen, 

Wm.  Chandler,  y  Committee. 

H.  D.  T.  Kerr, 

J.  M.  Salmon, 


/ 


$o  my  M$ttv'$  {gtatfctrltjtf  tflulrtvcn: 

"There  thou  shalt  walk  in  soft,  white  light, 
With  kings  and  priests  abroad  ; 
And  thou  shalt  summer  high  in  bliss, 
Upon  the  hills  of  God." 

Pied,  on  Saturday,  June  fith,  1S68,  at  Easton,  Pa.,  Mrs. 
Clara  A.  Shadwell,  wife  of  Mr.  S.  Leigh  Rodenbougb,  aged 
thirty-seven  years.  The  deceased  was  born  in  Manchester, 
England.  She  was  one  of  nine  daughters  of  the  late  Geo. 
Shadwell,  Esq.,  and  received  her  education  at  the  seminary 
of  Mrs.  Thompson,  at  Bowden,  Cheshire,  where  she  remained 
until  the  family  came  to  the  United  States.  A  guardian 
Providence,  taking  her  by  the  hand  in  early  womanhood,  led 
her  by  a  way  she  knew  not,  to  find  in  this  land  of  strangers 
a  wide  circle  of  loving  friends,  a  happy  home,  a  devoted  hus- 
band, a  redeeming  Saviour,  and  a  pathway  of  sanctified  suf- 
fering, which  lead  to  heaven  through  an  early  grave.  With 
one  of  the  best  physical  constitutions  that  ever  falls  to  the 
lot  of  even  an  English  woman,  she  seemed  in  youth  to  give 
the  best  hopes  of  long  life ;  but  He  who  had  chosen  her  as 
His  peculiar  treasure,  in  winning  her  from  the  world  to  Him- 
self, touched  her  perfect  health  with  incipient  blight  about 
the  time  when  the  Holy  Spirit  began  to  develop  in  her  soul 
the  germ  of  an  Eternal  life.  In  drawing  her  to  Himself,  the 
Redeemer  seemed  to  sa}-,  "I  have  chosen  thee  in  the  fur- 
nace of  affliction." — Isa.  xlviii.  10. 

Though  piously  educated,  and  with  a  heart  tenderly  affected 
towards  religion  at  times  from  early  youth,  the  impression 
which  led  her  to  consecrate  herself  to  Jesus,  was  made  while 
listening  to  an  address  to  the  impenitent  on  a  sacramental 
occasion  by  the  Ilev.  Dr.  McPhail.  She  had  seen  more  than 
enough  of  the  emptiness  and  folly  of  the  world.  She  resolved 
to  follow  henceforth  her  redeeming  Lord;  and  she  received 
evidence  of  discipleship  and  of  His  tender  love,  in  being 
constrained  by  Him  to  go  forth  in  His  footsteps  bearing  a 
heavy  cross.  Crucifixion  to  the  world  is  at  best  a  painful 
process.  In  her  case  it  was  attended  with  years  of  keen, 
often  of  agonizing,  suffering,  increasing  in  intenseness  to  the 
last.  During  a  long  experience  in  the  pastoral  office,  the 
writer  never  witnessed  a  case  of  affliction  more  clearly  sane- 


tided,  of  suffering  more  protracted  and  intense,  borne  with 
a  more  quiet,  uncomplaining  submission  to  the  will  of  Him 
who  loves  whom  He  chastens. 

To  those  whose  intimate  relations  enabled  them  to  watch 
the  progress  of  her  hidden  life,  the  development  of  her  spi- 
ritual growth  was  interesting,  beautiful,  and  attractive. 
There  was  much  to  bind  her  to  earth.  One  by  one  those 
ties  were  loosened  by  the  power  of  love  to  Jesus ;  until  at 
last  that  deepest  of  agonies  the  yearning  of  the  mother's 
heart  in  separating  from  her  children,  was  hushed  into  quiet- 
ness by  the  power  of  confidence  in  her  beloved  Lord.  Like 
the  Captain  of  our  salvation,  on  whom  her  anxious,  trusting 
eye  did  so  calmly  rest,  she  "was  made  perfect  through  suffer- 
ings." Her  growth  in  grace  was  manifested  not  in  the  ani- 
mation of  a  soul  mounting  up  with  the  brightness  of  the 
eagle's  eye  and  the  vigor  of  the  eagle's  wing ;  but  in  sitting 
at  the  feet  of  Jesus,  like  Mary,  in  humble  docility  and  sub- 
mission, and  in  growing  in  "the  meekness  and  gentleness  of 
Christ,"  while  receiving  "the  ornament  of  a  meek  and  quiet 
spirit,  which  in  the  sight  of  God  is  of  great  price." 

During  the  many  months  of  her  constant  suffering,  the 
groans  of  her  agonizing  spirit  were  frequently  heard;  a  mur- 
mur never  fell  from  her  rips.  At  such  times,  in  reply  to  the 
words,  "He  doth  not  afflict  willingly,"  she  would  saA*,  "Oh  no, 
no.  My  cross  is  very  heav}r ;  but  it  is  needful  for  me.  Oh 
how  much  lighter  than  I  deserve.  Jesus,  give  me  strength 
to  bear  it."  That  beautiful  poetry,  "The  Changed  Cross," 
was  specially  genial  to  her  heart.  She  read,  and  reread  it ; 
and  kept  the  little  volume  under  her  pillow.  It  was  found 
under  her  pillow  after  her  death.  The  last  two  verses  ex- 
pressed her  patient  acquiescence  in  the  divine  will: — • 

"And  as  I  bent,  my  burden  to  sustain, 
I  recognized  my  own  old  cross  again. 
But  oh  !  how  different  did  it  seem  to  be 
Now  I  had  learned  its  precionsness  to  see ! 
No  longer  could  I  unbelieving  say, 
Perhaps  another  is  a  better  way. 
Ah  no  !  henceforth  my  own  desire  shall  be, 
That  He  who  knows  me  best  shall  choose  for  me  ; 
And  so,  whate'er  his  love  sees  good  to  send 
I  '11  trust  it 's  best,  because  He  knows  the  end." 

jSIearlj-  four  months  before  her  death,  after  a  paroxysm  of 
agony  which  those  around  her  supposed  was  death,  she  said 


that  in  the  midst  of  the  struggle  she  felt  as  though,  had  she 
been  able,  she  would  have  found  relief  for  her  feelings  in 
singing  the  words — 

"Why  should  I  shrink  at  pain  or  woe ; 
Or  feel  at  death  dismay  ? 
I've  Canaan's  goodly  land  in  view, 
And  realms  of  endless  day." 

And  it  was  not  a  little  touching  to  hear  her  in  the  evening 
of  the  same  terrible  day,  sing  those  words  of  submission  and 
triumphant  hope.  Seldom  has  there  fallen  to  the  lot  of  wo- 
man a  voice  more  sweetly  musical  than  hers;  and  often  during 
the  last  months  of  her  earthly  sojourn,  has  the  heart  been 
touched  and  tears  brought  to  the  eye  by  hearing  from  her 
room  of  suffering  that  plaintive  voice,  more  beautifully  mu- 
sical through  sorrow,  giving  utterance  to  her  love,  and  trust, 
and  hope,  in  singing  such  hymns  as  "Nearer,  my  God,  to 
Thee,"  "One  sweetly  solemn  thought,"  "Guide  me,  O  thou 
great  Jehovah,"  "  How  firm  a  foundation,  ye  saints  of  the 
Lord."  On  the  Sabbath  before  her  death  she  sat,  for  the  first 
time  in  many  months,  at  dinner  with  her  family;  and  on 
retiring  she  was  led  into  the  parlor,  and,  seated  at  the  piano 
for  the  last  time,  played  and  sung  with  her  children,  "  Shall 
we  gather  at  the  river?"  while  some  present  were  thinking 
that  even  then  her  feet  were  feeling  the  chill  of  that  sullen 
river's  cold  plashing  waves.  Her  duties  as  a  woman,  a  wife, 
and  a  mother  were  tenderly  and  faithfully  discharged.  Her 
children  were  kept  steadily  under  a  discipline  gentle,  affec- 
tionate, and  firm,  which  formed  the  habit  of  obedience  with- 
out gainsaying,  yet  drew  them  to  her  with  a  confidential  love 
seldom  ecpialled  between  mother  and  child.  During  even  con- 
finement to  her  bed,  her  children  were  gathered  morning  af- 
ter morning  by  her  bedside,  that  she  might  read  with  them 
the  Scriptures,  and  pray  with  them.  On  one  occasion,  when 
they  were  thus  gathered,  the  mother,  exhausted  with  debility 
and  previous  pain,  fell  asleep  with  the  open  Bible  before  her, 
while  the  children  presented  a  touching  sight,  as  sitting  in 
silence  for  her  to  awake  and  lead  their  little  worship,  from 
whose  affection  and  teachings  they  were  so  soon  to  be  severed 
by  death. 

This  discipline  of  suffering  had,  through  sanctif3dng  grace, 
prepared  her  to  triumph  in  the  last  conflict.  During  four  and 
twenty  hours  before  death,  her  suffering  was  extreme;  but 


reason  Avas  unclouded  and  faith  triumphant  to  the  last.  Not 
long-  before  her  dissolution,  she  was  asked  if  she  still  felt 
Jesus  precious  ;  she  replied,  "Oh  yes,  precious — precious.  He 
is  my  only  trust ;  His  blood  cleanses  from  all  sin.  I  am  go- 
ing home.  Jesus  is  with  me."  Again  she  said,  "All 's  well ; 
all 's  well."  Then  she  repeated,  "  Yea,  though  I  walk  through 
the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death.  I  will  fear  no  evil :  for 
Thou  art  with  me;  thy  rod  and  thy  staff,  they  comfort  me." 
Again,  "All 's  peace — peace — peace.  I  am  passing  through 
the  dark  valley;  but  it  is  not  dark.  It  is  light — light;  Jesus 
is  with  me."  One  present  then  said,  "I  see  nothing  here  but 
victory.  Thanks  be  to  God  who  giveth  us  the  victory  through 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ."  She  then  raised  both  hands  and 
said,  "Victory!  Victory!" 

Her  children  were  brought  in  ;  and  with  a  calmness  which 
showed  she  was  the  most  unmoved  of  all  the  weeping  com- 
pan}7  around  her,  she  addressed  to  each  of  them  a  word  of 
counsel;  pointed  them  to  Jesus;  and  with  a  mother's  bless- 
ing, bade  them  a  last  adieu.  After  this,  while  lying  calm  and 
composed,  her  eyes  were  noticed  to  open  wide  and  brighten 
up,  while  a  smile  gathered  on  her  countenance  as  though  she 
was  gazing  with  delight  on  some  new  and  unusual  appear- 
ance. Some  who  witnessed  this,  looked  on  with  holy  trepi- 
dation and  reverence,  thinking,  Is  she  too  catching  a  glimpse 
of  those  shining  ones  who  are  ministering  spirits  to  the  heirs 
of  salvation,  and  have  come  to  cany  her,  like  one  of  old,  to 
the  bosom  of  Jesus  ? 

And  thus  she  died.  The  grave  was  despoiled  of  its  terrors; 
death  of  its  sting.  The  friends  who  had  been  permitted  to 
watch  for  months  and  years  the  progress  of  her  bodil}-  decay 
and  the  development  of  her  spiritual  life,  while  they  kneeled 
around  the  fallen  walls  of  the  earthly  tenement  from  which 
the  spirit  had  gone  amid  its  escort  of  angels  to  glory,  could 
not  do  otherwise  than  pour  out  their  hearts  in  thankful  love 
to  Him  whose  redeeming  grace  had  given  her  the  victory ; 
and  had  given  the  stricken  and  weeping  ones  yet  lingering 
on  earth,  such  grounds  for  feeling  through  all  future  loneli- 
ness and  tears,  that  "The  memory  of  the  just  is  blessed;" 
and  that  "after  she  had  patiently  endured,  she  obtained  the 
promise,"  fulfilled  in  all  its  glory  by  her  redeeming  Lord, 
"They  shall  walk  with  me  in  white;  for  the}'  are  worthy." 


BURROWES'  COMMENTARY 


SONG   OF    SOLOMON 


"It  is  little  to  say  that  it  is  the  best  commentary  on  'The 
Song  :  it  is  one  of  the  best  commentaries  on  an  Old  Testament 
book  which  it  has  ever  been  my  happiness  to  peruse.  For  I 
have  seldom  found  one  which  so  delightfully  combiues  scholar- 
ship and  sound  judgment  with  the  devotional  spirit,  or  one  in 
which  the  results  of  much  reading  are  so  gracefully  interwoven 
with  the  author's  independent  thinking.  The  book  is  espe- 
cially valuable  as  a  specimen  of  a  kind  of  commentary  much 
wanted  in  the  present  day — bringing  out,  as  it  does,  the  poeti- 
cal charms  of  the  inspired  writer,  and  so  commending  the 
study  to  men  of  literary  tastes.  Almost  the  very  day  that  I 
received  your  volume,  a  gentleman  consulted  me  about  a  friend 
of  his  who  had  been  sceptical,  but  who  had  now  got  the  length 
of  believing  in  the  Bible  as  a  divine  revelation  generally,  but 
who  still  stumbled  at  the  Song  of  Solomon.  I  advised  him  to 
go  at  once  and  get  your  book,  which  he  said  he  would.  I 
do  not  know  that  I  shall  ever  hear  the  result,  but  I  suspect 
there  are  not  a  few  to  whom,  in  the  same  way,  this  work  will 
be  a  word  in  season." — Rev.  James  Hamilton,  D.D.,  Regent's 
Square,  London,  Author  of  "  Life  in  Earnest,7'  fyc. 

'•The  cdmmenlary  of  Professor  Burrowes  on  the  Song  of 
Solomon  is  a  gift  to  the  Christian  community  of  eminent  value. 


2 

and  contains  the  rich  results  of  a  long-continued  investigation 
of  this  remarkable  portion  of  the  Scriptures.  Without  en- , 
cumbering  the  work  with  a  parade  of  learning,  he  has,  never- 
theless, succeeded  in  presenting  all  the  valuable  points  of  ripe 
scholarship  as  well  as  of  a  devout  study  of  the  Word  of  God. 
The  purity  of  taste  and  varied  learning  of  the  eminent  author 
are  conspicuous  alike  in  the  body  of  the  work  and  in  the  ad- 
mirable selection  of  matter  presented  in  the  notes.  The  reader, 
guided  by  such  an  expounder  of  the  Scriptures,  will  continu- 
ally find  new  beauties  in  the  Song;  and  will,  above  all.be 
greatly  edified,  and  taught  to  value  the  privileges  of  the  true 
believer,  by  the  practical  observations  found  on  every  page. 
This  mode  of  explaining  and  applying  the  various  portions  of 
the  Song  really  shows  it  to  be  what  he  terms  it  in  the  intro- 
duction, 'the  Manual  of  the  Advanced  Christian.'  The  work 
is  worthy  of  the  highest  commendation." — Rev.  C.  F.  Schaeffer, 
D.  V.,  Professor  in  the  Lutheran  Theological  Seminary, 
Philadelphia. 

"  I  am  delighted  with  your  commentary  on  several  accounts. 
It  nourishes  both  the  intellect  and  the  heart.  When  I  wish 
to  get  very  near  to  my  Saviour,  and  have  my  love  to  Him 
kindled  up  afresh  or  fanned  into  a  flame,  I  can  get  on  my 
knees  in  private  with  your  precious  volume  before  me,  and  feel 
greatly  aided  in  effecting  this  end.  You  must  yourself  have 
derived  great  spiritual  benefit  in  writing  this  work,  obliged  as 
you  were  to  think  and  speak  so  much  of  the  Beloved." — Rev. 
J.  M.  Olmstead,  Author  of  "  Noah  and  his  Times,"  §-c\ 

"  You  have  executed  a  very  difficult  and  delicate  task  with 
skill  and  judgment.  I  think  the  book  will  serve  to  bring  that 
portion  of  the  Word  of  God  more  into  the  course  of  practical 
readiug  of  pious  people,  and  enable  them  to  enter  into  its 
spirit.  There  is  doubtless  a  great  falling  off  in  the  devotional 
exercises  of  Christians  of  our  day,  as  compared  with  those  of 
some  other  periods  of  the  church.  We  have  so  many  socie- 
ties and  so  much  outdoor  life,  that  the  work  of  the  closet, 


and  communion  with  God,  and  devout  pondering  of  His  Word, 
are  often  sadly  neglected.  Your  work  is  adapted  to  counter- 
act this  evil ;  and  I  hope  you  will  have  the  satisfaction  of  find- 
ing that  it  has  ministered  to  the  greater  spirituality  of  the 
church." — Rev.  Charles  Hodge,  D.  D.,  Princeton. 

"  This  is  the  most  readable  and  satisfactory  commentary 
on  the  Canticles  we  have  ever  seen.  The  work  contains  a 
copious  introduction,  a  new  and  elegant  translation,  an  analy- 
sis of  the  Song,  and  a  rich  and  lucid  commentary,  maintaining 
in  an  eminent  degree  the  pure  evangelical  spirit  of  the  book. 
The  author,  in  this  work,  has  done  a  great  service  to  the 
church,  in  rendering  more  instructive  and  attractive  a  very 
precious  portion  of  God's  word,  which  has  been  but  too  little 
read  and  appreciated  by  the  general  reader  of  the  Bible.  He 
has  made  a  most  valuable  contribution  to  Biblical  literature, 
and  produced  a  work  which  will  be  read  with  pleasure  and 
profit  by  coming  generations." — The  Presbyter,  Cincinnati, 
Ohio. 

"  An  attractive  work  externally,  and  internally,  and  intrin- 
sically. With  this  author  for  our  guide,  the  Song  of  Solomon 
becomes  one  of  the  most  spiritual  and  edifying  books  of  the 
whole  inspired  canon." — The  Congregational  Herald. 

"  The  author  of  this  volume  has  rendered  the  cause  of  re- 
ligion and  the  Christian  world  important  service.  The  volume 
all  through  breathes  the  spirit  of  no  ordinary  piety.  While 
it  is  learned  and  critical,  it  at  the  same  time  glows  with  devo- 
tion to  '  the  Lord  of  life  and  glory.'  We  have  not  of  late  met 
with  a  book  in  which  we  have  been  so  much  interested." — The 
Christian  Times. 

"This  book  of  Dr.  Burrowes  is  the  most  satisfactory  exposi- 
tion and  elucidation  of  the  Song  we  have  ever  seen.  He  finds 
in  it  the  highest  and  best  of  spiritual  truth,  nor  are  his  reasons 
far-fetched  or  unnatural.     The  introduction  alone,  jn  which  he 


shows  the  progressivencss  of  the  Christian's  ability  to  under- 
stand the  Holy  Scriptures,  and  adduces  this  as  ever  new  and 
•ever  growing  evidence  of  the  truth  of  the  Bible,  is  worth 
more  than  the  price  of  the  book.  We  advise  ministers  to 
study  the  Song  of  Solomon  in  the  light  of  this  exposition." — 
Zion's  Herald. 

"The  loftier  the  reader's  views  are  of  Christ,  the  deeper  his 
insight  into  the  work  of  redemption,  the  more  exalted,  full,  and 
joy-inspiring  his  appreciation  of  the  beauty  and  bliss  of  that 
conformity  to  Christ  and  enjoyment  of  his  favor  to  which  the 
ransomed  are  to  be  advanced  at  their  resurrection  and  admis- 
sion to  his  eternal  kingdom,  the  greater  will  be  the  ease  with 
which  he  will  enter  into  the  teachings  and  spirit  of  this  vol- 
ume, and  the  higher  the  satisfaction  he  will  derive  from  it." — 
Lord's  Theological  and  Literary  Review. 


IMPRESSIONS 


DE.  WADSWORTH 


A  PREACHER. 


^l    CLERGYMAN 


SAN     FRANCISCO: 

TOWNE    &    BACON,   EXCELSIOR   PRINTING   OFFICE 
1863. 


<^">2-— 


JL-  /I'd?    *  f^^f  H^  /%>■  9l7^d<l llr-flnjhi  cCu^Ji 
COvdli  Ih^.  fyt.  py^C-   fcr-Cu,    0ui/}- ■&Y-C-t&*?0<?Ky  i^0U*  - 


J 


IMPRESS 


occ.  sep  mo 

THEOLQGN 


DE.  WADSWOKTH 


A  PREACHER. 


A    CLERGYMAN" 


(ASiA/d-zsi^J t 


SAN    FRANCISCO: 
TOWNE    &    BACON,    PRINTERS 

1863. 


DR.  WADSWORTII  AS  A  PREACHER, 


The  labors  of  Dr.  Wacls worth  on  the  Pacific  Coast 
have  been  attended  with  all  the  encouragement  that 
could  be  desired  by  his  friends.  His  church  is  crowded. 
Many  persons  are  known  to  look  forward  with  great 
pleasure  during  the  business  of  the  week,  to  the  coming 
of  the  Sabbath,  that  they  may  again  have  the  happiness 
of  sitting  under  his  preaching.  A  man  of  business  and 
means,  has  come  down  regularly  on  Saturday  afternoon 
in  the  steamer  from  a  place  one  hundred  and  twenty 
miles  distant,  for  no  other  purpose  than  to  attend  his 
church ;  and  he  says  that  such  are  the  pleasure  and 
benefit  thus  derived,  he  will  gladly  continue  to  do  this, 
unless  able  to  arrange  his  business  and  make  San  Fran- 
cisco his  home. 

Those  only  who  hear  Dr.  Wadsworth  continuously, 
can  have  any  just  idea  of  his  power  as  a  preacher.  His 
excellence  grows  on  you  by  acquaintance.  Forming,  as 
is  natural,  an  idea  of  his  preaching  from  his  reputation, 
persons  who  have  never  heard  him,  do  not  always  find 


him,  on  the  first  impression,  the  kind  of  preacher  they 
had  expected.  Works  and  things  bearing  the  impress 
of  genius,  whether  in  poetry,  architecture,  or  painting, 
disappoint  us  on  first  observation.  Time  is  needed  for 
disclosing  their  depth  of  idea  and  elaboration  of  finish. 
We  are  disappointed ;  and  our  first  impulse  is  to  sup- 
pose they  do  not  harmonize  with  our  anticipations 
because  falling  below  our  level ;  the  true  reason  is 
found  in  their  rising  above  our  standard.  The  same  is 
true  of  a  mind  of  elevated  piety  and  genius  in  the  pul- 
pit. Strangers  are  consequently  sometimes  disappointed 
on  a  first  casual  hearing  of  Dr.  Wadsworth.  As  time 
rolls  by,  the  constant  hearer  loses  sight  of  any  thing  at 
first  viewed  as  a  peculiarity,  and  marvels  at  the  man- 
ner in  which  he  brings  from  his  treasure  things  new 
and  old. 

The  prominent  and  most  striking  feature,  is  the  tone 
of  deep,  earnest,  simple-hearted  piety  that  pervades  all 
his  ministrations.  You  cannot  avoid  the  feeling,  that 
he  has  begun  his  theological  education  by  studying 
experimentally,  at  the  feet  of  Jesus,  under  the  teaching 
of  the  Holy  Spirit,  the  truth,  "  Whosoever  shall  not 
receive  the  kingdom  of  God  as  a  little  child,  shall  in  no 
wise  enter  therein." — Luke  18  :  17.  Those  who  have 
come  expecting  to  meet  literary  splendor  first  and 
prominent,  are  disappointed  by  encountering  on  the 
threshold  the  simplicity  and  unction  of  the  spirit  of 
Jesus.  They  are  ready  to  turn  away  disappointed,  as 
this  is  not  what  they  anticipated ;  yet  in  the  unexpected 


simplicity  of  this  beauty,  they  find  their  attention 
arrested ;  and  as  they  pause  and  gaze,  they  feel  their 
incipient  interest  deepening  into  admiration.  They  find 
themselves  listening  not  to  a  dreamer  who  is  weaving 
poetical  fancies,  abstract  metaphysical  lucubrations  spun 
from  material  drawn  from  God's  word,  into  a  drapery  of 
vanity  for  adorning  himself  with  its  folds,  but  to  the 
voice  of  the  Spirit  dwelling  in  the  shrine  of  this  spiritual 
temple  and  making  the  preacher  "  speak  as  the  oracles 
of  God."  You  feel  that  behind  all  he  says  there  must 
be  lying  years  of  conflict  and  agony,  of  trials  and  sor- 
rows, of  deep  gloom  and  despondency,  of  strong  cries 
and  tears,  of  heavenly  fellowship  and  confidential  friend- 
ship with  God,  of  transforming  views  of  the  glory  of 
Christ  and  homesickness  to  be  away  with  Jesus  :  All 
this  blended  with  deep  study  and  meditation  on  the 
Scriptures,  and  assimilated  by  the  fires  of  the  Holy 
Spirit  into  a  homogeneous  mass  with  the  living  truth 
gathered  from  the  word  of  God,  finds  utterance  through 
the  molding  control  of  a  brilliant,  original,  powerful 
mind,  of  a  soul  whose  lips  have  been  touched  with  a 
coal  from  Isaiah's  hallowed  fire.  Literature  with  its 
riches  and  culture  is  laid  under  heavy  requisition,  yet 
kept  in  the  proper  place,  as  the  servant  of  the  sanctuary 
— not  as  the  divinity  enthroned  in  its  shrine.  The  orna- 
ments of  his  style,  are  not  a  painted  rhetorical  confec- 
tionery hanging  like  the  appendages  to  a  Christmas- 
tree,  but  the  spring  blossoms  and  autumn  fruits  cluster- 
ing on  a  tree  planted  by  the  waters  of  life. 


6 

No  preacher  shows  a  deeper,  more  tender  love  for  the 
Lord  Jesus.  In  fullness  and  tenderness  it  is  remarka- 
ble, "  passing  the  love  of  women."  This  affection  for  the 
Redeemer  gives  a  tinge  to  his  whole  style,  and  a  tone  to 
all  his  utterances.  The  intonations  of  his  voice  have  a 
musical  plaintiveness  in  harmony  with  the  feelings  of 
his  heart.  His  prayers  are  remarkable.  They  are  the 
natural  outpouring  of  these  blended  emotions,  truths, 
experiences,  spiritual  conflicts,  and  love  to  Jesus,  gath- 
ered in  his  deepest  soul.  As  a  consequence,  they  are 
intensely  devotional,  going  with  subduing  power  to  the 
heart,  and  melting  down  the  feelings  of  the  audience 
into  a  readiness  for  receiving  the  mingled  instruction 
and  pathos  that  follow.  Brilliant  as  are  his  sermons  in 
thought  and  language,  they  have  in  greater  degree  this 
unction  of  deep,  tender,  humble-hearted  love  to  Jesus. 
They  are  golden  urns  filled  with  the  sacred  "beaten 
oil"  of  the  sanctuary.  They  are  like  the  golden  vessels 
of  the  temple — not,  as  is  too  often  the  case,  filled  with 
the  sparkling  but  intoxicating  distillations  at  Belshaz- 
zar's  feast — but  filled  to  the  brim,  by  the  word  of  Him 
who  was  present  at  Cana  of  Galilee,  with  that  love 
which  is  better  than  wine,  and  with  that  grace  which  is 
the  fruit  of  the  Spirit.  While  from  his  discourses,  bril- 
liant thoughts  fly  off  in  all  directions,  like  the  scintilla- 
tions from  the  red-hot  iron  when  struck  on  the  anvil ; 
like  those  scintillations  too,  these  thoughts  are  ablaze 
with  the  baptism  of  heavenly  fire.  When  the  hostile 
forces  before  Troy,  as  represented  by  Homer,  stood  gaz- 


ing  in  wonder  at  the  falling  star  which  came  clown  from 
heaven  at  mid-day  with  a  trail  of  sparkling  brilliancy, 
the  great  beauty  of  the  blazing  meteor  was  not  so  much 
in  the  attractive  light,  as  in  the  goddess  around  whose 
presence  was  thrown  the  drapery  of  that  light;  those 
who  saw  only  the  falling  star,  felt  it  beautiful ;  those 
who  saw  the  divine  messenger,  the  embodiment  of  heav- 
enly wisdom,  within  that  star,  saw  a  deeper  beauty,  and 
felt  a  deeper  joy.  Thus,  while  these  discourses  pass 
before  the  fixed  gaze  of  the  soul,  luminous  with  the 
splendor  of  brilliant  thoughts  and  literary  beauty,  the 
penetrating  eye  of  the  believing  heart  feels  their  greater 
attractiveness  is  in  the  divine  presence  which  this  bril- 
liancy embodies,  the  glowing  manifestation  there  made 
of  a  living  and  glorified  Redeemer.  Brilliant  thoughts 
are  tesselated  in  his  sermons,  like  the  precious  stones 
in  the  attire  of  the  high  priest ;  yet  like  the  urim  and 
thummim  among  the  stones  of  the  breast-plate — the 
light,  and  love,  and  presence  of  Jesus,  throw  over  all 
a  brilliancy  from  heaven. 

Stronger  than  every  other  attraction,  is  the  unction 
with  which  he  preaches  Jesus.  His  sermons  are  redo- 
lent with  the  fragrance  of  that  name  which  is  as  oint- 
ment poured  forth.  They  are  full  of  Jesus  and  of 
heaven.  They  are  exuberant  in  distillations  of  richer 
than  (lilead's  balm,  from  Him  who  binds  up  the  broken- 
hearted, and  comforts  those  who  mourn.  The  sorrowing 
here  find  sympathy  from  contact  with  the  truth  of  a 
sympathizing  Saviour.     He  preaches  consolation  like  a 


man  who  knows  how  to  succor  others,  because  he  has 
himself  been  compassed  with  suffering.  His  pathos 
goes  to  the  very  core  of  the  heart.  The  feelings  are 
gently,  unconsciously  raised  to  a  degree  where  the  ten- 
sion, however  delightful,  often  becomes  painful ;  and  the 
spell  on  the  heart  breaks  in  a  luxury  of  tears.  No  man 
has  greater  power  in  so  soothing  the  wounded  heart  and 
presenting  the  attractiveness  of  heaven  blended  with 
the  glory  of  Jesus  as  to  make  the  sinking  spirit  feel 
resigned  under  its  heaviest  burden,  and  look  up  with 
more  than  gladness  from  amid  earthly  toil  and  anguish, 
to  the  peacefulness  of  its  final  rest.  Coming  from  the 
lips  of  one  who  has  been  made  to  "  ride  on  the  high 
places  of  the  earth  and  drink  the  pure  blood  of  the 
grape  "  beyond  Jordan,  his  sermons  are  powerful  in  loos- 
ening the  heart  from  earth,  and  in  turning  it  with  the 
eye  of  a  home-sick  soul,  to  its  rest  on  the  unseen  hills 
with  Jesus.  The  spirit  yearns  for  the  wings  of  immor- 
tality, as  he  portrays  the  attractiveness  of  heaven,  and 
makes  us  feel, 

"  There  thou  shalt  walk  in  soft  bright  light,  with  kings  and  priests  abroad, 
And  thou  shalt  summer  high  in  bliss,  upon  the  hills  of  God." 

With  all  his  sympathy  with  sorrow,  there  is  mingled 
the  brightness  of  joy  and  hope.  He  turns  toward  the 
wretched  the  bright  side  of  the  cloud.  In  all  his  minis- 
trations, he  keeps  blazing  in  the  front  the  principle  that 
concerning  Jesus — 

"  There  should  not  be  a  shadow  of  gloom 
In  aught  that  reminds  us  of  Thee." 


9 

He  makes  religion  synonymous  with  cheerfulness  and 
consolation.  Those  who  come  to  church  only  to  gratify 
a  literary  taste,  to  gaze  merely  on  the  polished  stones 
and  carved  work  of  the  sanctuary,  will  find  abundant 
beauties  for  their  gratification.  Those  that  come  with 
the  feelings  of  the  Greeks  to  the  temple,  who  said  to 
Philip,  "  Sir,  we  would  see  Jesus,"  (John  12 :  21,)  will 
find  themselves  "  abundantly  satisfied  with  the  fatness 
of  God's  house  and  be  made  to  drink  of  the  river  of  his 
pleasures."  He  loads  the  altar  at  which  he  ministers, 
not  with  chaplets  and  wild  flowers  gathered  in  Delphian 
vales  and  groves  of  Academus,  but  with  clusters  gath- 
ered in  a  richer  than  Eshcol,  and  with  fruits  from  that 
tree  which  is  for  the  healing  of  the  nations. 

As  might  be  expected,  this  could  not  be  done  without 
giving  the  marrow  of  the  Gospel.  By  the  words  "  mar- 
row of  modern  divinity,"  some  persons  seem  to  under- 
stand something  different  from  the  living  principle  of 
the  Gospel  fresh  from  its  original  springs.  From  the 
peculiar  constitution  of  their  minds"  and  the  character  of 
their  religion,  coldly  intellectual,  with  barely  emotion 
enough  to  give  any  symptom  of  life,  they  crave  an 
exhibition  of  Scripture  which  is  set  up  in  the  cold  form 
of  a  metaphysical  skeleton,  where  the  truth  can  be 
scanned  as  an  exercise  in  logic  or  polemics,  and  the 
whole  religious  duty  of  man  becomes  a  calm  mental 
exercise,  without  trenching  on  the  feelings  and  without 
going  beyond  the  mere  moralities  of  the  world.  By 
"  the  marrow  of  divinity  "  such  persons  seem  to  under- 


10 

stand  the  dry  bones  of  divinity  unbroken — the  truth 
set  up  in  a  shape  that  puts  it  beyond  the  power  of  the 
hungry  to  get  therefrom  any  nutriment.  Such  is  the 
character  of  many  a  so-called  doctrinal  sermon — cold, 
hard,  unattractive,  repulsive,  indigestible,  incomestible. 
If  by  "  the  marrow  of  modern  divinity "  is  meant,  as 
some  persons  seem  to  mean,  the  dry  bones  of  "  Original 
Sin,"  "  Decrees,"  and  kindred  topics,  set  before  a  congre- 
gation in  such  a  way  that  they  can  only  try  the  teeth 
of  their  formality  and  orthodoxy  on  them,  like  a  clog 
gnawing  a  bone,  and  without  getting  from  them  any 
more  nourishment ; — then,  those  do  not  get  it,  who  wait 
on  Dr.  Wadsworth.  But  if  breaking  the  dry  bones  of 
Scripture  texts  and  extracting  from  them  the  finest 
marrow,  the  quintessence  of  heavenly  truth,  and  setting 
it  before  a  people  in  such  a  way  that  their  souls  are 
"  satisfied  with  marrow  and  fatness  ;" — if  this  is  giving 
the  marrow  of  divinity,  then  does  Dr.  Wadsworth  give 
it  to  perfection.  He  excels  in  giving  the  marrow  of  the 
Scriptures.  Passages  out  of  the  way  and  unnoticed, 
passages  lying  in  the  common  track  but  passed  neg- 
lected as  hard,  dry,  and  containing  apparently  nothing, 
he  will  gather  up,  and  from  them  will  extract  delicious 
nutriment  for  the  soul  hungering  and  thirsting  for 
righteousness.  He  finds  the  hidden  manna  in  abundance 
where  others  do  not  suspect  even  its  existence.  Where 
other  men  would  pass  without  casting  even  a  glance  at 
portions  of  Scripture  deemed  useless  and  dead  as  the 
body  of  the  slain  lion,  he,  like  Samson,  a  turning  aside 


11 

to  see  the  carcase,"  finds  these  dead  ceremonies  of  an 
abrogated  dispensation  and  antiquated  facts  of  a  bygone 
age,  swarming  with  truths  rich  and  living,  from  which 
he  brings  forth  to  those  who  gather  to  these  feasts  of 
the  soul,  that  which  is  "  sweet  to  the  taste,  sweeter  than 
honey  and  the  honey-comb."  He  goes  through  the  less 
trodden  and  out-of-the-way  portions  of  the  Scriptures, 
and  with  the  instinct  of  genius  guided  by  the  inner  light 
of  the  Holy  Spirit,  gathers  gems  and  gold  by  others 
often  passed  unnoticed.  Among  the  cliffs,  and  crags, 
and  ravines  of  revelation,  he  notices  and  touches,  under 
this  same  guidance,  one  and  another  jet  of  truth,  which 
like  gas  brought  in  contact  with  flame,  while  escaping  in 
the  darkness,  needed  only  to  be  touched  by  the  fire  of 
love  from  a  brilliant  mind,  to  blaze  "  like  a  torch  of  fire 
in  a  sheaf." 

With  a  mind  of  high  originality  and  an  imagination 
of  great  brilliancy,  Dr.  Wadsworth  is  free  from  every- 
thing visionary  and  unreal.  All  is  sobered  by  deep 
penetration  and  sound  common  sense  He  possesses  in 
an  eminent  degree  the  power  of  seeing  Scripture  in  its 
relations  to  the  circumstances  and  wants  of  those  to 
whom  he  ministers.  Some  persons  will  receive  from  a 
hint  an  impulse  that  will  give  them  a  start  and  open 
before  them  a  whole  domain  of  unnoticed  truth,  while 
others  will  stumble  over  the  same  suggestion  without 
getting  a  single  new  idea.  From  meager  data  a  high 
mathematical  intellect  will  evolve,  by  the  aid  of  the  cal- 
culus, valuable  and  surprising  results,  while  others  will 


12 

be  at  fault  over  a  simple  problem  in  algebra.  The 
superior  mind  shows  its  superiority  in  working  out 
important  consequences  from  slender  premises  present- 
ing to  others  only  an  impracticable  puzzle.  It  is  thus 
in  handling  the  Scriptures.  They  are  germs  for  the 
preacher  to  unfold  according  to  the  laws  of  the  human 
mind  and  of  a  sanctified  holiness.  A  strong  mind  filled 
with  the  Holy  Spirit  will  evolve  much  from  portions 
which  others  will  handle  without  any  important  practi- 
cal results.  Dr.  Wadsworth  sees  with  remarkable  pene- 
tration, not  only  what  a  passage  was  intended  to  teach 
in  its  primary  application  to  those  who  first  heard  it, 
but  what  it  was  intended  to  teach  us.  He  has  the  fac- 
ulty of  elaborating  from  the  Scriptures  their  practical 
element,  as  bearing  on  pjresent  things.  He  is  eminently 
a  practical  preacher.  He  does  not  give  long  skeleton- 
sermons,  as  dry  as  "  Ridgley's  Divinity,"  with  what  is 
called  "a  practical  application"  at  the  end,  as  if  the  doc- 
trinal and  the  practical  were  to  be  kept  asunder, 
although  the  great  Author  of  truth  and  duty  forbid  such 
a  divorce,  when  he  at  first  published  between  them  the 
bans.  A  striking  feature  of  his  sermons  is  the  manner 
in  which  he  blends  the  doctrinal  and  practical,  causing 
doctrine,  when  not  visible  in  its  naked  form,  to  furnish 
the  bone  and  muscle  of  the  discourses  which  he  sets 
before  us  in  the  freshness  of  the  flesh  and  beauty  of 
practical  life.  In  reading  Shakspeare  you  do  not  see 
the  naked  frame  of  a  system  of  metaphysics ;  }-et  was 
Shakspeare  the  greatest  of  metaphysicians.     He  gives 


13 

us  these  profound  abstractions  in  the  guise  of  living 
things.  And  thus  Christian  doctrine  stands  before  us  in 
these  discourses,  embodied  in  practical  duties,  and  in  the 
attractive  beauty  of  real  life.  Truth  is  presented  not  in 
an  abstract,  hard,  indigestible  shape,  which  the  heart 
cannot  assimilate;  in  theological  essays  deep  and  "clear, 
but  0  how  cold  ;" — we  receive  "  the  pure  milk,  the  pure 
cream,  of  the  word."  Even  in  his  sermons  professedly 
doctrinal,  we  find  this  singular  and  peculiar  charm. 
When  leaving  the  church  after  having  heard  discourses 
on  the  abstract  points  of  our  faith,  persons  familiar  from 
childhood  with  the  instructions  of  the  best  pulpits  in 
the  large  cities  of  the  East,  have  remarked  that  such 
topics,  when  heretofore  treated,  had  always  been  set 
forth  in  so  dry  and  unattractive  a  manner  as  to  seem 
incapable  of  being  invested  with  the  beauty  and  interest 
thrown  around  them  by  Dr.  Wadsworth.  His  state- 
ments of  doctrine  are  discriminating  and  clear;  and 
casting  aside  arguments  weak  or  used  merely  to  show 
the  writer's  acuteness,  he  selects  the  few  fitted  to  strike 
the  minds  and  hearts  of  his  own  audience,  and  drives 
them  home  with  the  effectiveness  of  "  nails  fastened  in 
a  sure  place."  His  doctrinal  sermons  are  not  metaphys- 
ical intangibilities  fitted  for  the  theological  tomes  or  the 
polemical  congregations  of  two  hundred  years  ago,  but 
living  nourishment  adapted  to  the  existing  state  of 
things  among  the  flock  of  his  own  fold. 

No  preaching  can  be  popular  without  being  practical. 
His  preaching  is  eminently  practical.     It  shows  great 


14 

shrewdness  and  penetration  into  the  heart  and  into  the 
motives  operating  in  daily  life.  It  owes  not  its  interest 
to  startling  novelties ;  it  does  not  draw  its  power  from 
oratorical  elocution.  It  is  not  rhetorical ;  it  is  not  flow- 
ery ;  it  is  not  metaphysical.  It  is  not  addressed  to 
some  particular  fancy  or  idiosyncrasy  of  the  day.  You 
cannot  detect  in  him  any  shade  of  resemblance  to  the 
features  of  the  family  of  sensation-preachers.  He  has 
nothing  in  common  with  them.  The  very  appearance 
of  the  man  in  the  pulpit  shows  his  abhorrence  of  clap- 
trap and  cant.  You  see  that  self  is  left  in  the  back- 
ground. His  case  is  a  fulfillment  of  the  promise,  "  He 
that  shall  humble  himself,  shall  be  exalted." — Matt. 
23 :  12.  He  shrinks  from  public  notoriety,  public 
demonstrations,  and  public  applause.  He  possesses 
eminently,  so  much  so  that  it  is  a  deficiency  in  his  char- 
acter, the  very  unusual  disposition  to  undervalue  himself 
and  his  productions.  He  cannot  understand  how  he 
could  ever  be  viewed  as  a  preacher  of  mark  and  power. 
The  crowds  that  have  ever  hung  around  his  ministry, 
are  to  him  alone  a  mystery.  After  sermons  under  which 
all  hearts  in  a  crowded  congregation  are  melted  down, 
and  recover  from  their  breathless  and  even  painful 
attention  with  admiration  and  tears,  he  alone  will  sit 
down  overcome  with  a  sense  of  failure  and  of  little 
worth  in  so  magnificent  an  effort.  Nor  is  this  feeling  of 
personal  shortcoming  and  unworthiness  a  mere  pretense, 
a  maneuver  for  drawing  forth  expressions  of  admiration. 
It  is  a  deep,  honest  conviction,  resulting  from  a  consti- 


15 

tutional  peculiarity  that  can  never  be  removed.  A 
humility  so  unfeigned,  allied  with  so  much  greatness, 
and  mellowed,  no  less  than  deepened,  by  divine  grace, 
throws  a  great  charm  around  the  character,  and  gives 
an  attractiveness  seldom  met  in  such  a  world. 

Thus  ignoring  self  and  feeling  his  dependence  on 
God,  he  seems  to  make  it  his  aim  to  discard  everything 
likely  to  interfere  with  his  doing  good  to  the  souls  of 
his  hearers.  He  weaves  no  chaplets  of  flowers  around 
the  sword  of  the  Spirit.  Not  a  superfluous  rhetorical 
ornament  can  be  found  in  his  discourses.  He  does  not, 
while  the  children  are  asking  for  bread,  give  them  a 
stone.  He  strives  to  do  good  to  the  whole  soul  of  man 
as  a  sinner  in  danger  of  perishing.  I  have  never  heard 
more  direct,  more  pungent,  more  powerful  appeals  than 
some  of  his,  to  the  impenitent.  He  presents  the  truth 
so  as  to  interest  and  benefit  the  weakest,  while  he 
instructs  and  makes  the  strongest  marvel.  The  hum- 
blest Christian,  with  hands  hardened  and  cheek  furrowed 
by  toil,  may  be  seen  side  by  side  with  the  man  of  pro- 
fessional culture  and  wealthy  ease,  both  listening  with 
equal  interest  and  both  equally  bathed  in  tears.  His 
argumentation  is  peculiar,  close,  compact,  and  strong; 
not  with  a  long  concatenation  of  ideas  wearying  the 
mind  to  keep  in  hand  the  whole  train  of  thought  from 
first  to  last,  but  with  a  powerful  condensation,  till  it 
glows  like  a  diamond,  and  is  grasped  as  easily  as  our 
vision  grasps  a  star, — so  comprehensive  as  to  satisfy  the 
mind  of  widest  grasp,  and  so  compact  as  to  be  received 


16 

by  the  humble  intellect  without  an  effort.  Some  of  his 
statements  of  controverted  points  are,  in  the  compass  of 
a  single  sentence,  more  convincing  than  many  a  labored 
argument.  Such  is  the  condensation  that  you  have  not 
time  to  cavil  and  sift  the  premises,  before  your  judg- 
ment is  forced,  much  as  in  the  case  of  self-evident 
truths,  to  admit  the  conclusion.  It  presents  a  remarka- 
ble combination  of  simplicity,  condensation,  clearness, 
and  strength.     Even  when — 

"  In  thoughts  more  elevate,  he  reasons  high 
Of  providence,  foreknowledge,  will,  and  fate," 

you  are  not  "  in  wandering  mazes  lost ;"  but  can  always 
— which  cannot  often  be  said  on  this  subject — carry 
away  something  satisfactory  and  clear. 

Allied  with  this,  is  a  polished  wit  and  effective  sar- 
casm. Never  have  we  seen  these  things  used  with  such 
propriety  in  the  pulpit.  In  these  things,  Addison  was 
not  more  polished,  nor  in  better  taste.  The  most  rigid 
decorum  and  the  most  sensitive  piety,  so  far  from  find- 
ing anything  to  condemn,  must  cheerfully  say  that  Dr. 
Wadsworth  employs  these  weapons  wisely  and  effec- 
tively on  the  side  of  religion,  in  the  house  of  God.  They 
are  delicate  and  dangerous  things,  seldom  to  be  trusted 
in  the  hands  of  human  frailty  at  the  sacred  altar.  He 
uses  them  only  at  intervals,  but  with  such  propriety  and 
sweeping  power,  that  their  appearance  is  hailed  with 
delight  by  the  meekest  and  most  devout  spirit.  Objec- 
tions to  the  Scriptures,  which  have  seemed  strong,  and 


17 

around  which  some  men  would  go  again  and  again  in 
labored  argument,  his  wit  demolishes  at  a  blow.  His 
sarcasm,  delicate  and  subtle,  with  the  finest  edge  of 
irony  and  in  the  best  taste,  is  withering  and  overpower- 
ing. Like  lightning  from  a  clear  sky,  when  least  ex- 
pected there  is  a  flash  and  a  smash ;  and  nothing  remains 
but  the  ashes  of  the  empty  structure  infidelity  had  so 
proudly  reared.  The  counter-blow  is  so  truly  aimed 
and  so  effective  that  you  cannot  repress  a  smile  at  the 
pitiable  plight  of  the  foe  who  lies  dismantled  at  his  feet. 
Sometimes,  in  passing,  he  makes  a  thrust  at  some  of  the 
empty  fooleries  of  the  day  which  loom  up  in  such 
gigantic  proportions,  and  they  shrivel  under  the  touch 
of  his  sarcasm,  like  the  colossal  genius  under  the  wand 
of  the  magician  in  the  oriental  tale.  His  wit  is  truly  a 
polished  shaft  worthy  of  being  laid  up  among  the  furni- 
ture of  the  sanctuary  and  of  being  employed  in  its 
defense.  No  armor  in  which  infidelity  encases  itself,  is 
of  such  proof  as  to  prevent  these  fiery  arrows  from 
piercing  "  between  the  joints  of  the  harness." 

On  hearing  some  persons  speak  of  Dr.  Wadsworth's 
delivery,  we  have  been  reminded  of  the  complaints 
made  by  the  dull  martinets  beaten  by  Bonaparte  in 
Italy,  when  they  maintained  that  although  the  young 
general  uniformly  defeated  them  with  such  overwhelm- 
ing results,  he  should  be  stripped  of  his  epaulettes 
because  his  maneuvers  were  so  totally  contrary  to  the 
old  rules  and  their  own  expectations.  They  could  not 
understand  how  genius  could  reach  such  splendid  results 
2 


18 

by  means  and  modes  not  familiar  to  their  own  plodding 
brains.  Judged  rigidly  by  the  rules  of  elocution,  his 
delivery,  like  that  of  Demosthenes,  may  show  points 
where  many  a  prosy  speaker  would  be  less  faultless. 
Yet  we  feel  sorry  for  those  who  are  ready  to  cavil  at 
anything  in  efforts  where  the  general  results  are  so 
good  and  so  grand.  With  us,  the  disposition  to  criticise 
is  lost  in  the  impulse  to  admire  and  feel  grateful.  We 
leave  willingly  to  those  who  can  stoop  to  it,  the  little- 
ness of  carping  and  caviling  at  unessential  things,  amid 
so  much  that  is  great  and  good.  They  may,  if  they 
choose,  find  fault  with  the  diamond  because  there  is  a 
trifling  speck  :  we  are  more  than  willing  to  take  it  as  it 
is,  with  thankfulness  for  the  great  beauty  and  treasure 
it  contains.  Whatever  may  be  said  of  his  action,  it  is 
soon  felt  to  be  part  and  parcel  of  his  thoughts  and  emo- 
tions, the  spontaneous  outgushing  of  his  deep  feelings, 
carrying  with  its  intense  earnestness  and  transparent 
simplicity  a  touching  power  on  the  heart  that  no  studied 
precision,  however  faultless,  could  equal ;  and  which  no 
hearer  who  enjoys  the  luxury  of  the  spell  produced  by 
the  speaker's  blended  peculiarities  and  endowments, 
would  wish  to  see  meddled  with  or  changed.  We  would 
have  nothing  different,  lest  the  magic  spell  be  broken. 
While  persons  whose  mind  would  be  startled  in  affright 
at  the  apparition  of  an  original  idea,  and  could  no  more 
control  a  strong  conception  than  could  Pha3ton  control 
the  coursers  of  the  sun,  would  spend  their  little  strength 
on  little  things  incapable  of  producing  even  little  results, 


19 

he,  with  perfect  ease,  evokes  deep  thoughts  and  brilliant 
ideas  in  the  gorgeous  drapery  of  an  ideal  world  of  his 
own  creation,  and  as  powerfully  as  Prospero  in  "  The 
Tempest,"  controls  them  at  his  will.  We  care  not  how 
the  magician  waves  his  wand,  whether  gracefully  or 
ungracefully,  if  he  will  but  people  the  air  around  us 
with  this  crowd  of  brilliant  imaginings  fresh  from  the 
world  of  thought,  and  make  them  pass  with  all  their 
splendor  and  power  in  this  whirlwind  of  feeling  over 
the  soul.  We  have  repeatedly  seen  a  crowded  audience 
under  the  power  of  this  peculiar  eloquence,  when  to 
them  could  be  applied  the  words  of  the  great  magician 
to  those  under  his  potent  spell,  in  "  The  Tempest :" 

"  There  stand, 
For  you  are  spell-stopped. 
Mine  eyes,  even  sociable  to  the  shew  of  thine, 
Fall  fellowly  drops.     The  charm  dissolves  apace, 
And  as  the  morning  steals  upon  the  night, 
Melting  the  darkness,  so  their  rising  senses 
Begin  to  chase  the  ignorant  fumes  that  mantle 
Their  clearer  reason." 

None  but  a  great  orator  could  produce  on  such  congre- 
gations, for  years  in  succession,  the  effects  so  uniformly 
produced  by  Dr.  Wadsworth.  Nor  could  the  same 
effects  be  produced  even  by  his  own  burning  words, 
through  any  other  delivery  than  his  own.  The  attempt 
to  superinduce  any  other  delivery  on  his  thoughts  and 
style,  would  be  as  incongruous  as  covering  the  neck  and 
hands  of  Jacob  with  goat-skins — "  the  voice  is  the  voice 
of  Jacob,  but  the  hands  are  the  hands  of  Esau."  More- 
over he  does  not  take   off  the  edge  of  his  eloquent 


20 

thoughts  and  appeals  by  dwelling  too  long  on  thein. 
You  never  weary  under  a  tedious  elaboration.  You  are 
not  kept  looking  at  the  glass  till  the  foam  and  sparkle 
have  gone,  and  the  wine  grows  vapid.  He  fulfills  the 
requirements  of  the  highest  criticism — "  Oratory,  like 
the  drama,  abhors  lengthiness ;  like  the  drama,  it  must 
keep  doing.  It  avoids,  as  frigid,  prolonged  metaphysi- 
cal soliloquy.  Beauties  themselves,  if  they  delay  or 
distract  the  effect  which  should  be  produced  on  the 
audience,  become  blemishes." 

His  treatment  of  Scripture  is,  throughout,  original 
and  exhaustive.  A  lawyer  remarked  that  he  had  been 
in  the  habit,  when  a  text  is  announced,  of  forming  some 
idea  in  his  mind,  what  might  be  the  outline  of  the  fol- 
lowing discourse ;  but  that  in  reference  to  Dr.  Wads- 
worth's  treatment,  he  was  always  far  astray  in  his  con- 
jecture. Bold  and  original,  brilliant  and  suggestive,  not 
only  scattering  original  ideas  with  profusion,  but  throw- 
ing around  familiar  ideas  a  drapery  so  new  as  to  make 
us  often  fail  at  first  glance  to  recognize  an  old  acquaint- 
ance,— he  is  nevertheless  free  from  what  is  erratic,  erro- 
neous, and  startling.  No  coquetting  with  false  philosophy, 
no  fool-hardy  venturing  on  the  precipices  of  error,  no 
vamping  up  of  exploded  follies  for  gaining  a  name  for 
originality  and  independence,  unsettles  your  confidence 
and  enjoyment.  The  impression  made  by  portions  of 
some  of  his  sermons  reminds  you  of  a  scene  in  winter, 
when  trees  and  shrubbery  coated  with  icicles  are  bril- 
liant from  the  morning  sun ;  or  of  a  landscape  in  the 


21 

colors  thrown  over  it  when  viewed  through  a  prism  ; — 
jet  amid  all  this  beauty,  you  recognize  the  headlands 
and  lineaments  of  the  solid  ground  of  Scripture  truth 
and  real  life.  His  imagination  uses  its  resources  only 
for  making  the  truth  impressive  and  attractive.  You 
never  find  philosophical  or  theological  errors  smuggled 
in  under  so  much  that  is  beautiful.  You  are  not  under 
the  painful  necessity  of  picking  off  worms  and  creeping- 
things  from  amid  the  leaves,  and  flowers,  and  fruit  over- 
filling the  vase  he  places  on  your  altar.  He  has  cour- 
age and  sober  sense  enough  to  be  evangelical,  to  hold 
to  the  sound  old  truth,  without  regard  to  the  fashiona- 
ble sneers  from  "  philosophy  and  vain  deceit."  The 
unction  from  the  Holy  One  has  so  sobered  his  soul,  that 
no  effect  is  produced  by  the  bewildering  sorceries  of 
modern  rationalism.  He  leaves  to  other  minds  the 
ambition  of  rummaging  in  the  labyrinths  of  a  false  phi- 
losophy for  the  mummies  of  old  errors  of  bygone  ages, 
and  then  parading  them  before  the  world  as  grand  dis- 
coveries of  original  truth.  A  fine  imagination,  led  astray 
by  the  ignis  fattens  of  a  false  philosophy,  without  the 
steadying  power  of  true  religion  in  the  heart,  will  give 
utterance  to  such  things  as  come  into  the  world  in  vol- 
umes tinged  with  the  transcendental  rationalism  of  the 
day ;  a  fine  imagination,  imbued  with  the  influences  of 
the  Holy  Spirit,  will  produce  such  sentiments  and  such 
instruction  as  crowd  the  discourses  of  Dr.  Wadsworth. 
So  full  is  his  mind  of  original  suggestions,  so  numerous 
are  the  fresh  and  unusual  relations  of  sound  Scripture 


22 

truth  disclosed  to  his  meditative  soul,  that  he  can  afford 
to  leave  to  weaker  minds  and  less  spiritual  hearts  the 
folly  of  seeking  the  reputation  of  deep  thinkers,  by 
bringing  into  the  pulpit  divine  truth  bedizened  with 
metaphysical  speculations  and  far-fetched  foolishness,  in 
grotesque  and  painful  masquerade.  He  preaches  Jesus 
fully,  as  the  doctrine  of  Jesus  is  embodied  in  the  stand- 
ards of  his  own  Church.  There  is  no  slurring  of  any 
doctrine  because  unpopular  or  unpalatable.  The  bold- 
ness of  thought  and  imagination,  which  would  carry  off 
some  minds  with  an  eagle's  flight  into  the  regions  of 
speculation  nnd  error,  is  with  him  so  sobered  by  true 
godliness  as  to  keep  him  steady  in  the  old  paths  trod  by 
prophets  and  apostles. 

He  is  particularly  happy  in  expanding  Scripture,  in 
catching  the  true  meaning  and  carrying  out  what  the 
Holy  Spirit  would  thereby  indicate.  He  is  eminently 
suggestive.  He  gives  as  the  result  of  his  elaborations 
not  only  new  thoughts  fully  developed,  but  new  ideas, 
involving  and  suggesting  trains  of  thought  for  us  to  fol- 
low out  in  future  hours.  He  has  eminently  the  poetic 
constitution  of  mind  which  is  necessary  for  grasping  and 
unraveling  the  figurative  language  of  Scripture,  and 
evolving  the  varied  truths  hid  in  the  involutions  of  its 
rich  and  beauteous  folds.  He  seems  the  minister  of  a 
better  than  the  old  Jewish  sanctuary,  opening  before 
you  the  vail  of  purple,  and  scarlet,  and  fine  twined  linen, 
while  shaking  pearls  and  gems  from  its  folds.  The  met- 
aphors, the   shadows,  the    figurative    language  of  the 


23 

Scriptures,  appear  in  newness  of  life  under  the  light  he 
gathers  around  them.  As  he  opens  up  a  passage,  per- 
haps a  single  clause  only,  from  some  historical  narrative, 
you  wonder  there  is  so  much  in  it ;  and  so  simple,  yet 
so  suggestive  does  it  seem,  so  clear  and  so  adapted  to 
the  wants  of  your  heart — the  wonder  is  you  never  before 
saw  it  in  such  a  light.  Like  the  persons  surprised  in 
the  depth  of  the  forest  with  beautiful  music,  in  Milton's 
"  Comus " — around  you,  in  places  of  Scripture  where 
you  are  least  expecting  it, 

"  Sweetly  do  soft  and  solemn-breathing  thoughts 
Steal  like  a  steam  of  rich  distilled  perfumes." 

It  is  like  breaking  the  seal  on  Mary's  box  of  perfume — 
the  whole  house  is  rilled  with  the  fragrance. 

A  prominent  trait  in  the  character  of  Dr.  Wadsworth 
is  his  exemplification  of  the  command,  "  Follow  peace 
with  all  men." — Heb.  12  :  14.  His  nature  shrinks  from 
controversy  and  strife.  No  man  can  strive  more  care- 
fully to  fulfill  the  words,  "As  much  as  lieth  in  you  live 
peaceably  with  all  men." — Rom.  12:  18.  And  the 
beauty  of  this  trait  consists  in  its  being  found  in  his 
character  in  alliance  with  an  adherence  to  sound  doc- 
trine which  nothing  can  shake,  with  a  calmness  which 
knows  no  fear,  and  with  a  firmness  which  nothing  can 
control. 

Those  who  have  sat  longest  under  his  ministry  will 
feel  that  the  efforts  of  Dr.  Wadsworth  are  among  the 
remarkable  pulpit-ministrations  of  the  day.     In  general 


24 

characteristics  they  bear  a  resemblance  to  those  of  the 
Rev.  Henry  Melvill,  of  London.  The  character  and 
endowments  of  her  sons  constitute  the  wealth  of  the 
Church ;  and  it  is  only  by  recording  the  impressions  of 
individuals,  that  the  fleeting  realities  which  manifest 
character,  can  be  arrested  and  embalmed  for  the  treasure 
of  future  times. 


New  Castle,  June  27,  1807. 

My  Deak  Mrs.  Kerr: 

I  would  beg  to  express  to  you  mj-  thanks  for  the  memorial 
of  your  sainted  Mother  in  heaven.  Though  I  had  the  melan- 
choly pleasure  of  hearing  it  when  delivered,  I  will  prize  it  as  a 
remembrancer  of  one  whom  I  reverenced  and  loved.  Dr.  Spots- 
wood's  sketch  of  her  character  is  beautiful,  just,  and  finished  ; 
and  a  touching  expression  of  the  affection  cherished  by  the  good 
pastor  towards  his  flock,  which,  when  thus  hallowed  and  mellowed 
by  years,  becomes  one  of  the  most  precious  earthly  rewards  and 
consolations  gathered  amid  the  discouragements  and  trials  of  a 
life  of  pastoral  toil.  The  getting-up  of  the  whole  thing  is  perfect. 
No  urn  ever  placed  by  Roman  affection  on  a  parent's  tomb  was 
so  beautiful  and  touching  an  offering  of  filial  love. 

I  have  never  known  an  old  age  and  a  death  in  which  all  things 
combined  so  harmoniously,  as  in  the  case  of  your  mother,  to  call 
for  unmingled  thankfulness  and  praise.  There,  truly,  death  was 
swallowed  up  in  victory.  When  youth  is  struck  down  in  its 
promise,  or  womanhood  in  its  prime,  and  around  are  strewn  the 
wreck  of  disappointed  hopes,  purposes  unaccomplished,  and 
duties  unfinished,  we  contemplate  the  wreck  with  sadness,  even 
though  the  grave  be  despoiled  of  its  victory,  and  death  of  its 
sting.  But,  here,  every  end  of  life  had  been  accomplished,  every 
purpose  fulfilled,  every  duty  done.  To  her  had  been  pre-eminent- 
ly fulfilled  the  prayer,  "  The  Lord  will  perfect  that  which  con- 
cerneth  me."  Longer  than  Israel  in  the  wilderness  had  she 
followed  God  fully  along  the  entire  road  of  the  heavenward 
pilgrimage.  Every  earthly  relation  of  the  true  woman  had  she 
sustained,  and  its  duties  discharged  with  a  quietness  and  energy 
grace  only  can  give  ;  and  with  a  gentleness  and  completeness 


which  in  this  world  of  weakness  is  seldom  equalled,  never  sur- 
passed. Her  natural  disposition  seemed  to  he  moulded  as  a 
medium  for  a  special  manifestation  of  the  gentleness  and  loveliness 
of  the  grace  of  Jesus.  Even  the  earthly  investment  of  her  soul 
seemed  assimilated  to  the  fineness  and  delicacy  of  the  nature 
dwelling  within.  And  when  these  natural  endowments  were 
enlivened,  purified,  and  ennobled  by  the  grace  of  the  Holy  Spirit, 
they  bodied  forth  a  character  of  unusual  attractive  loveliness — 

The  mould 
Of  earth  was  so  transparent,  that  the  flame 
Of  God's  blest  Spirit  burning  on  her  heart, 
Shone  softly  luminous  on  all  around. 

In  her  life  was  embodied  eminently  "the  meekness  and  gentleness 
of  Christ. ' '  On  no  female  heart  ever  rested  more  beautifully  ' '  the 
ornament  of  a  meek  and  quiet  spirit."  No  human  eye  gazing 
on  any  coronet  of  queenly  majesty  and  beauty,  ever  had  such 
pleasure  as  that  experienced  by  those  who  beheld  set  in  her  soul 
the  purer,  richer  gems  of  "Love,  joy,  peace,  long-suffering, 
gentleness,  faith,  meekness."  Gal.  v.  22.  No  human  character 
was  ever  more  sweetly  "Pure,  peaceable,  gentle,  easy  to  be 
entreated,  full  of  mercy  and  good  fruits,  without  partiality,  and 
without  hypocrisy."  James  iii.  17.  Never  have  I  felt,  more  fully 
than  in  contemplating  her  later  years,  the  attractiveness  of  the 
promise,  "They  shall  walk  with  me  in  white  ;  for  they  are  wor- 
thy." Rev.  iii.  4. 

All  whose  happiness  was  to  know  her,  felt  the  preciousness  of 
her  example,  of  her  influence,  and  of  her  friendship.  Her  pastor 
has  testified  to  her  singular  excellence  as  an  ornament  of  the 
religion  of  Jesus.  Her  friends  will  henceforth  feel  heaven  more 
attractive,  since  there  they  shall  be  permitted  to  renew  the 
severed  attachments  of  earth,  and  find  undying  companionship 
with  the  spirits  of  the  just  made  perfect,  among  whom  she  will 
rise  before  their  memories  and  their  hearts  as  a  bright  peculiar 
star  amid  those  morning  stars  of  light  and  love.     The  beauty  of 


her  character  consisted  in  her  being  every  whit  a  woman,  and 
in  moving  in  woman's  own  peculiar  sphere.  As  a  true  woman, 
all  her  endowments  of  nature  and  of  grace  shone  forth  with 
greatest  beauty  in  that  truest  sphere  of  woman,  her  home.  "  Her 
children  did  indeed  rise  up  and  call  her  blessed."  Tins  fallen 
world  has  surely  never  seen  a  home  more  beautiful  than  that  in 
which  for  so  many  years,  amid  the  deepening  shades  of  old  age, 
she.  like  that  brightest  star  of  the  Northern  Crown  of  the  autumnal 
sky.  among  the  lesser  stars  of  that  brilliant  constellation,  was  the 
central  point  of  attraction  and  love  among  her  children  and 
children's  children.  Those  who  were  privileged  to  witness  the 
affection,  the  duty,  the  devotion  of  that  sacred  circle,  feel  that  to 
witness  this  was  a  joy  seldom  found  on  earth;  and  those  per- 
mitted to  gather,  as  one  of  them,  with  her  at  the  feet  of  Jesus 
in  prayer  in  that  sacred  chamber,  feel  this  was  a  privilege  seldom 
equalled  on  this  side  of  heaven. 

Thus  compassed  with  those  who  loved  her  better  than  they 
loved  their  own  soul ;  amid  the  affection  and  devotion  of  daugh- 
ters ;  the  fond  love  and  duty  of  sons  ;  with  the  tender  affection 
and  revering  hearts  of  children's  children  ;  did  she,  leaning  on 
the  arm  of  her  Beloved  and  her  Friend,  go  up  from  this  wilder- 
ness towards  the  green  pastures  and  living  fountains  of  waters 
of  the  heavenly  Canaan.  Her  end  was  according  to  her  works. 
Her  hope  was  calm,  sweet,  and  buoyant  in  the  confidence  of  a 
child-like  trust.  She  did  herein  fulfil  the  words  of  Jesus,  and 
•'receive  the  kingdom  of  God  as  a  little  child."  How  calmly 
sweet  the  confidence  with  which,  amid  the  very  shades  of  death, 
she  whispered,  "  I  have  no  hope  but  in  the  merits  of  the  blood 
of  Jesus. "  Surrounded  with  everything  to  make  earth  attractive, 
among  which  the  things  supplied  by  wealth  were  seen,  however 
desirable,  to  be  O  how  little  in  comparison  with  the  blessings 
lavished  on  her  from  the  wealth  of  the  affections  of  so  many 
loving  hearts — she  went  up  to  the  mountain  to  die,  not  alone 
like  Moses,  but  to  meet  her  Lord  iu  His  glory  ou  the  mount  of 


transfiguration  ;  and  on  that  mount  to  meet  under  the  excellent 
glory  those  who  were  dearer  to  her  than  Moses  and  Elijah,  her 
husband  and  sons  among  the  saints  in  light. 

There,  as  she  had  thus  gone  up  followed  by  her  weeping  child- 
ren on  earth,  and  stood  before  her  Redeemer  in  glory,  meeting 
there  her  loved  ones  gone  before,  she  might  truly  say,  "Lord, 
here  am  I  and  the  children  whom  thou  hast  given  me."  And 
how  sweetly  and  gently  did  she  fade  away  into  glory.  As  I  have 
seen  the  moon  on  a  clear  winter's  morning  in  her  delicate  silvery 
brightness,  walking  together  with  the  morning  star  on  the  verge 
of  the  brightening  dawn,  till  at  length  lost  from  view  amid  the 
full  light  of  day — so  did  she  seem,  in  the  pure,  clear  beauty  of 
holiness  to  walk  with  Jesus,  "the  bright  morning  star,"  above 
this  earth,  on  the  verge  of  the  brightening  dawn  of  heaven,  till 
at  last  disappearing  from  human  view,  as  o'er  her  released  spirit 
did  the  day  break  and  the  shadows  flee  away.  With  her,  God's 
dealings  wrere,  indeed,  a  dispensation  of  love.  As  with  Christiana, 
in  Bunyan's  Pilgrim,  at  the  time  of  her  departure,  "The  token 
was  an  arrow  with  a  point  sharpened  with  love."  And  as  with 
weeping  friends  I  came  back  from  her  grave,  I  felt  I  could  say  of 
her  as  Bunyan  says  of  Christiana  :  "She  entered  in  at  the  gate 
with  all  the  ceremonies  of  joy  that  her  husband  had  entered  with 
before  her.  At  her  departure,  the  children  wept,  but  Mr.  Great- 
heart  and  Mr.  Valiant  played  upon  the  well-tuned  cymbal  and 
harp  for  joy." 

You  will  excuse  this  long  letter  ;  and  allow  me  to  say,  in  con- 
clusion, "Whose  faith  follow."  With  my  kindest  regards  and 
prayers,  my  dear  Mrs.  Kerr,  for  you  and  for  all  whom  you  love, 
believe  me,  as  ever, 

Very  truly  yours  in  the  Lord  Jesus, 

GEO.  BURROWES. 

Mrs.  Ann  C.  Kerr. 


A  DISCOURSE 


DELIVERED    AT    THE    FUNERAL 


JAMES    COTTPER,  M.  D., 


AT  NEW  CASTLE,  DELAWARE, 


On  Thursday,  August  17,  1865. 


BY 

GEORGE  BURROWES,  D.  D. 


PHILADELPHIA: 
COLLINS,  PRINTER,  105  JAYNE    STREET. 

1865. 


nk-C,  SEP  1880 


DISCOURSE. 


Caught  up  into  Paradise. — II.  Corinthians  12:  4. 

Friends,  brethren  and  companions  in  tribulation,  and 
in  the  kingdom  and  patience  of  Jesus  Christ — As  we 
have  here  gathered  to  walk  with  a  dearly  beloved 
friend,  far  as  human  footsteps  are  permitted  to  go,  down 
into  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death,  and  there  bid 
him,  so  far  as  relates  to  earth,  a  final  adieu ;  let  us  lift 
our  eyes,  red  with  weeping,  away  from  the  dark  shadows 
and  chill  dews  of  the  grave  in  which  he  disappears  from 
view,  and  look  upwards  to  that  world  of  glory  into 
which  he  has  already  emerged  to  "  shine  as  a  star  and 
as  the  brightness  of  the  firmament  forever  and  ever." 
As  we  stand  here  weeping,  we  hear  a  voice,  not  in- 
deed like  that  addressed  to  the  disciples  gazing  after 
"Jesus  our  elder  brother,  the  first  begotten  from  the 
dead,"  as  he  was  ascending  to  his  father  and  our  father, 
to  his  God  and  our  God;  but  a  voice  like  the  great 
voice  heard  from  heaven  in  the  apocalyptic  vision,  say- 
ing to  our  weeping  spirits — "  Caught  up  into  Paradise." 

He  has  been  caught  up  into  heaven  as  a  distinct 
place.  St.  Paul  says  that  himself  was  caught  up  into 
heaven.  But  for  guarding  against  the  error  of  looking 
on  heaven  as  a  state  merely,  and  not  a  place,  he  repeats 


that  he  was  caught  up  into  Paradise — into  heaven  as 
distinctly  a  locality  as  Eden  was  a  locality  on  earth.  It 
is  the  same  place  of  which  Jesus  spake  to  the  penitent 
on  the  cross,  "  Verily  I  say  unto  thee,  To-day  shalt  thou 
be  with  me  in  Paradise."  Luke  23 :  43.  It  is  called 
paradise  for  showing  that  the  souls  of  departed  saints 
are  in  a  place  where  they  enjoy  a  perfection  of  blessed- 
ness and  a  manifestation  of  the  glory  and  presence  of 
God,  which  can  find  its  only  representation  to  human 
minds  in  the  paradise  where  our  first  parents  dwelt, 
before  the  entrance  of  sin,  under  the  cloud  of  light,  the 
brightness  of  the  Father's  glory. 

The  saints  are  caught  up  to  this  glory.  They  go  up 
to  this  place  as  the  prophet  went  up  in  the  chariot  and 
horses  of  fire.  We  lose  much  by  thinking  these  facts 
of  the  Scriptures  are  miraculous  and  can  never  be  re- 
peated now.  The  material  form  of  the  thing  may  never 
be  repeated  to  mortal  eyes;  but  the  spiritual  truth  that 
material  fact  was  intended  to  teach,  may  be,  and  must 
be,  constantly  repeated.  The  types  have  ceased;  the 
divine  truth  embodied  in  those  types  lives  and  abides 
forever  in  the  history  and  experience  of  the  saints  in 
every  age.  The  fact  of  the  translation  of  Elijah,  like 
the  types,  is  a  representation  to  the  human  senses,  of  a 
glorious  truth  which  is  realized  in  the  death  of  every 
believer.  The  soul  of  every  dying  saint  finds  waiting 
for  his  conveyance  to  Paradise  that  which  is  to  the  dis- 
embodied soul  what  the  chariot  of  fire  was  to  the  body 
of  the  ascending  prophet.  How  generally  in  thinking 
of  death,  are  we  apt  to  feel  with  the  servant  of  the  pro- 
phet, "Alas,  my  master!  how  shall  we  do1?"     But  when 


the  Lord  opens  our  eyes  at  death,  we  shall  be  as  when 
"  the  Lord  opened  the  eyes  of  the  young  man ;  and  he 
saw:  and,  behold,  the  mountain  full  of  horses  and 
chariots  of  fire  round  about  Elisha."  2  Ki.  6:  11.  The 
ministry  of  angels  runs  through  the  whole  of  the  Scrip- 
tures. The  angels  were  with  Jesus  from  Bethlehem  to 
Gethsemane  and  his  resurrection.  The  beggar  died 
and  was  carried  by  the  angels  to  Abraham's  bosom. 
"The  angel  of  the  Lord — the  angelic  soldiery  of  the 
living  God — encampeth  round  about  them  that  fear 
him;  and  delivereth  them."  Ps.  34  :  7. 

Now,  therefore,  the  death  of  the  saints  is  no  accident. 
They  are  sent  for,  caught  up.  There  has  been  no  night 
when  there  has  not  been  a  guard  of  angels  around  this 
christian  home.  But  could  our  eyes  have  been  opened 
on  the  night  before  the  last  Sabbath,  we  must  have 
seen,  not  a  falling  star,  but  the  chariot  and  horses  of 
fire  falling  from  heaven  and  stopping  at  this  threshold. 
In  addition  to  the  ordinary  picket  guard  of  angels 
stationed  here,  we  would  have  seen  a  battalion  of  this 
soldiery  of  heaven  in  their  armor  of  light,  the  escort 
ordinarily  detailed  for  a  prince  of  the  kingdom,  waiting 
for  the  coming  out  of  this  heir  of  heaven,  this  king  and 
priest  unto  God,  from  the  walls  of  this  earthly  house  of 
his  tabernacle.  There  stood  they  waiting  in  quietness, 
when,  faithful  as  a  good  servant  in  duty  to  the  last,  he 
came  in  wearied  from  his  last  professional  call,  and 
closed  the  duties  of  a  laborious  life,  as  a  priest  of  his 
household  by  the  evening  sacrifice  of  prayer  at  the 
altar  of  his  loved  and  peaceful  home.  There  stood  that 
escort  of  angels  waiting;   there  stood  Jesus;   but  the 


eyes  of  our  friend,  like  the  eyes  of  the  disciples  of  old, 
were  holden  that  he  should  not  see  them.  The  words 
describing  the  prophetJs  translation  are  well  nigh  a 
description  of  his  own.  With  friends  beloved  he 
talked  almost  to  the  last.  "And  it  came  to  pass  as 
they  still  went  on  and  talked,  that,  behold,  a  chariot  of 
fire  and  horses  of  fire,  and  parted  them  asunder;  and 
he  went  up  into  heaven."  2  Ki.  2:11.  Calm  in  the 
blessed  peace  of  his  father's  God,  he  laid  his  weary 
head  on  his  pillow;  but  ere  sleep  had  sealed  his  senses, 
— unheard  by  mortal  ears,  a  trumpet  blown .  by  angel 
lips  sounded  at  his  door.  Like  a  good  soldier  sleeping 
on  his  armor,  he  knew  the  sound  and  sprang  to  meet 
the  summons.  But  this  time  the  master  had  called  not 
to  a  midnight  pilgrimage  of  mercy  to  some  sick-bed  of 
the  poor;  but  to  enter  as  a  prince  and  conqueror  the 
chariot  of  fire;  to  be  caught  up  into  paradise;  to  meet 
the  blessing,  "Well  done,  good  and  faithful  servant; 
enter  thou  into  the  joy  of  thy  Lord."  Matt.  25  :  23. 
When  the  Sabbath  dawned — 

"  There,  in  the  twilight  cold  and  gray, 
Lifeless,  calm  as  in  sleep,  he  lay ; 
But  from  the  sky  serene  and  far, 
A  voice  came  like  a  falling  star — 
Excelsior !"  with  Jesus  ! 

Thus  caught  up  into  Paradise,  he  is  present  with  Jesus. 
Absent  from  the  body,  we  are  present  with  the  Lord. 
We  are  thus  caught  up  in  order  that  we  may  be  with 
Jesus.  For  such  the  prayer  is  offered  in  heaven — 
"Father,  I  will  that  they  also  whom  thou  hast  given 
me,  be  with  me  where  I  am,  that  they  may  behold  my 


glory."  Jno.  17  :  24.  The  road  of  light  along  which 
that  escort  around  this  chariot  of  fire  passed  away  to 
heaven,  was, 

"The  way  the  holy  prophets  went, 
The  road  that  leads  from  banishment, 
The  King's  highway  of  holiness." 

It  was  the  same  highway  travelled  by  Jesus  with  the 
penitent  thief  from  Calvary ;  the  same  travelled  in 
every  age  by  apostles  and  saints;  the  same  along 
which  nearly  six  and  twenty  years  ago,  his  own  father 
in  whose  footsteps  this  beloved  son  followed  so  faith- 
fully to  the  last,  passed  away  to  glory.  It  was  that 
new*  and  living  way  opened  for  us  into  the  holiest  by 
the  blood  of  Jesus ;  the  highway,  "  The  way  of  holiness," 
along  which  "the  ransomed  of  the  Lord  shall  return  and 
come  to  Zion  with  songs  and  everlasting  joy  upon  their 
heads;  they  shall  obtain  joy  and  gladness,  and  sorrow 
and  sighing  shall  flee  away." 

Thus  caught  up  to  Jesus  in  paradise,  they  are  in  per- 
fect blessedness.  "Thou  wilt  show  me  the  path  of  life: 
in  thy  presence  is  fulness  of  joy;  at  thy  right  hand 
there  are  pleasures  for  evermore."  Ps.  16  :  11.  If  some 
traveller  returned  from  the  ends  of  the  earth  should 
bring  word  that  the  old  original  Paradise  in  Eden  had 
been  discovered,  how  thrilling  would  be  the  tidings. 
Better  still,  if  a  path  of  light  were  found  by  which  it 
could  be  reached  on  some  green  isle  of  a  tropic  summer 
sea,  and  we  could  enter  its  gates  no  longer  guarded  by 
cherubim  and  flaming  sword,  there  to  enjoy  a  heritage, 
a  home  on  its  evergreen  meadows,  its  sunny  hills,  and 
gather  with  our  own  hands  the  living  fruits  of  an  im- 


mortal  health  and  undying  youth  from  the  boughs  of 
the  tree  of  life.  And  if  we  had  a  friend  so  happy  as  to 
reach  that  heritage,  would  we,  could  we,  ever  be  so  self- 
ish as  to  wish  him  to  leave  it  and  return  to  the  cold 
realities  and  withering  sorrows  of  this  outer  world  1  No : 
no.  •  Never :  never.  But  the  same  heavenly  herald  that 
came  with  the  summons  for  our  departed  friend,  has  left 
for  our  consolation  these  words  written  by  the  finger  of 
God — "To  him  that  overcometh,  will  I  give  to  eat  of 
the  tree  of  life,  which  is  in  the  midst  of  the  paradise  of 
God."  Rev.  2  :  7.  Whatever  may  be  the  precise  state 
of  things  in  heaven,  it  is  enough  for  us  to  know  that 
the  departed  saints  are  enjoying  a  blessedness  transcend- 
ing that  of  the  paradise  in  Eden,  and  which  can  be  best 
illustrated  by  the  joys  of  that  earthly  paradise. 

Being  caught  up  to  be  thus  with  Jesus,  they  there 
abide  with  Him,  like  the  penitent  thief  from  the  cross, 
and  return  with  their  King  to  receive  their  bodies  again 
in  the  resurrection.  Enoch  was  translated  for  showing 
that  the  bodies  no  less  than  the  souls  of  men  shall  reach 
heaven.  To  this  testimony  in  the  patriarchal  age,  was 
added  that  of  the  translation  of  Elijah  under  the  Mosaic 
dispensation.  Under  the  gospel,  for  continuing  unbroken 
the  line  of  testimony,  through  the  different  dispensations, 
to  this  crowning  truth  of  our  redemption,  St.  Paul  was 
caught  up  into  Paradise  for  seeing  that  the  bodies  of 
the  redeemed  reach  heaven ;  that  the  body  of  Jesus  is 
there,  and  the  bodies  of  the  translated  few  as  the  first 
fruits  of  redemption  completed.  From  this  personal 
view,  he  was  able  to  speak  with  even  greater  confidence 
in  the  triumphant  testimony  he  bears  in  the  fifteenth 


chapter  of  First  Corinthians  to  the  truth  of  the  resur- 
rection from  the  dead.  Nature  did  not  first  teach  this 
truth;  but  nature  is  full  of  utterances  and  characters 
which  this  truth  alone  enables  us  to  interpret.  To  the 
resurrection  of  the  body  are  we  pointed  every  morning 
on  awaking  from  sleep.  Even  amid  the  gloom  of 
heathenism,  reason  saw  the  analogy  between  death  and 
sleep.     Homer  says — 

"  She  speeds  to  Leranos  o'er  the  rolling  deep, 
And  seeks  the  cave  of  Death's  half-brother,  Sleep." 

How  beautiful  the  confirmation  of  this  doctrine,  by  the 
spring  whose  thousand  voices  proclaim  from  every  hill- 
top, and  from  every  valley,  and  from  every  cloud  in 
rainbow  hues,  "Thy  brother  shall  rise  again;"  by  the 
flowers,  themselves  raised  by  almighty  power  from  the 
dead,  whose  breath  of  fragrance  repeats,  and  whose  tiny 
bells  ring  out  in  silver-peals  pure  as  those  in  Paradise, 
the  utterance  first  heard  on  Judea's  hills,  "  I  am  the 
resurrection  and  the  life."  These  sweet-toned  heralds, 
angels  in  the  material  drapery  of  earth,  does  the 
redeeming  creator  send  forth  year  by  year  into  every 
flowery  valley  and  every  blossoming  tree  to  confirm  to 
us  by  their  analogical  testimony  this  glorious  truth, 
disclosed  to  us  by  revelation,  demonstrated  by  the  logic 
of  St.  Paul  an  eye-witness  to  its  reality  in  Paradise, 
and  overwhelmingly  confirmed  to  us  by  example  in  the 
resurrection  of  Jesus  from  the  dead.  O  this  cold  clay, 
this  is  not  the  last  of  our  loved  and  cherished  friend. 
This  mouldering  dust  is  but  the  germinal  elements 
from  which  shall  spring  at  the  word  of  Him  who 
brought  the  brother  of  Mary  and  Martha  from  the  dead, 


10 

a  glorious  body  like  unto  the  body  borne  by  Jesus  in 
glory,  in  the  midst  of  the  throne,  crowned  with  many 
crowns,  the  last  and  richest  of  them  all  his  crown  of 
triumph  over  death  and  the  grave.  By  the  arm  of 
Jesus  has  the  soul  of  this  departed  saint  been  caught 
up  from  the  toils,  and  weariness,  and  infirmities,  and 
cares,  and  sorrows  of  earth,  to  the  bosom  of  Jesus,  a 
star  on  the  breast  of  that  kingly  conqueror,  there  to 
await  the  return  of  Jesus  to  earth  for  completing  our 
redemption  by  the  resurrection  of  our  bodies  from  the 
grave. 

Who  then  can  misunderstand  me  when  I  say,  that 
amid  our  tears  we  have  ground  for  rejoicing.  We 
bless  our  father's  God  for  such  a  gift  as  that  of  our 
departed  friend,  in  whom  was  embodied  such  loveliness, 
such  excellence,  such  usefulness.  Instead  of  murmur- 
ing now  at  the  recall  of  this  precious  legacy,  we  thank 
the  Father  of  mercies  that  it  was  so  long  continued. 
We  pour  out  our  souls  in  thankfulness  amid  our  tears, 
for  the  grace  of  the  Holy  Spirit  who  made  this  good 
man  what  he  was;  and  made  us  so  long  partakers  of 
the  benefits  of  his  labors,  the  riches  of  his  example,  and 
the  preciousness  of  his  friendship.  Why  should  I 
here,  amid  the  friends  of  his  childhood;  among  those 
who  for  more  than  forty  years  have  been  witnesses  of 
his  daily  professional  life;  among  those  who  during 
nearly  a  quarter  of  a  century,  must  have  so  often 
thought  of  Enoch,  as  you  beheld  his  quiet  and  consistent 
walk  with  God ; — why  should  I,  in  such  a  gathering, 
stop  to  dwell  on  his  character'?  To  those  who  had  not 
the    happiness  to  know  him,  the  words  of  truth  and 


11 

affection  might  seem  overdrawn ;  while  to  those  who 
have  so  long  felt  the  power  of  his  goodness  and  love, 
the  same  words  may  seem  tame  and  below  the  truth. 
Under  the  effects  of  a  blow  so  sudden  and  stunning,  the 
heart  and  hand  of  friendship  fail  in  such  an  office. 

He  possessed  all  the  elements  which  nature  and  cul- 
tivation combine  to  blend  in  the  man  of  gentleness  and 
refinement.  He  was  a  man  of  the  most  delicate  sensi- 
bility, the  most  scrupulous  justice,  and  the  most  refined 
sense  of  honor.  So  exquisitely  was  his  nature  attem- 
pered to  all  that  is  pure,  and  lovely,  and  honorable,  and 
of  good  report,  that  he  shrank  from  the  very  shadow  of 
wrong,  from  the  very  breath  of  untruth;  and  this  deli- 
cacy of  sensibility,  while  making  him  a  man  of  pure 
elevation  and  the  finest  character,  was  the  cause  of 
much  suffering  in  a  world  of  such  rough  antagonism 
and  unscrupulous  policy.  Judging  others  with  justice 
and  gentleness,  he  felt  proportionally  the  ungenerous 
judgments  of  natures  of  a  rougher  and  more  selfish 
mould.  His  whole  standard  of  duty  and  honor  was  not 
indeed  too  high  for  justice  and  truth,  but  too  high  for 
the  peace  of  a  sensitive  nature  in  such  a  callous  world. 
He  embraced  in  the  word  honor,  not  merely  the  few 
ragged  elementary  principles  adopted  by  the  irreligious 
world  into  their  code  ;  but  gathering  up  these  as  simple 
primary  elements,  he  blended  them  with  the  full 
finished  teaching  and  morality  of  the  honor  that  cometh 
from  God.  His  was  an  honor  refined  and  exalted  by 
the  truth  and  spirit  of  holiness.  His  conscience  was 
sensitive  to  the  most  delicate  shades  of  right  and  wrong; 
equally   keen   in   its    discriminations  and  judgments; 


12 

gently  firm  and  unsparing  of  self  in  its  decisions ;  and 
inflexibly  unyielding  in  carrying  out  its  determinations. 
No  task-master's  eye,  no  stimulus  from  public  sentiment, 
no  goading  from  personal  pride  and  vanity,  was  ever 
needed  for  keeping  him  faithful  to  duty.  In  him,  con- 
science sensitive,  refined,  and  enlightened,  had  control 
supreme.  And  thus  instructed,  his  conscience  embraced 
in  its  grasp,  judged,  and  urged  to  the  performance  of, 
the  whole  compass  of  duties  incumbent  on  the  well 
balanced  man.  This  inward  moral  power  guiding,  con- 
trolling, and  prompting,  made  him  a  man  of  public  spirit 
in  all  things  relating  to  the  good  of  his  neighborhood 
and  his  native  State;  made  him  a  pure,  right-minded, 
unswerving  patriot;  and  kept  in  healthful,  judicious, 
vigorous  exercise  his  large  natural  benevolence,  which 
with  a  conscience  less  clear  and  penetrating  in  its 
apprehensions,  and  less  strong  in  its  controlling  power, 
must  have  made  him  a  man  of  immeasurably  fewer  and 
less  valuable  works  of  charity  and  mercy.  He  had  a 
natural  love  for  benevolence  from  the  pleasure  enjoyed 
in  its  exercise.  He  never  sent  the  needy  empty  away, 
even  when  self-sacrificing  effort  was  necessary  for  their 
relief. 

His  christian  character  followed  the  law  of  our  being 
in  taking  its  coloring  from  the  peculiarities  of  his  natu- 
ral disposition.  In  him,  nature,  education,  and  culture 
had  laid  a  noble  foundation  for  the  development  of 
grace.  Two  and  twenty  years  ago,  the  Holy  Spirit 
made  him  feel  that  he  needed  more  than  his  spotless 
morality  and  blameless  life  to  fit  him  for  Heaven.  He 
had  hitherto  been  to  his  friends  a  living  commentary 


13 

on  the  young  man  whom  Jesus  loved,  though  con- 
strained to  say  to  him,  "  One  thing  thou  lackest."  He 
hearkened  to  this  divine  utterance  in  his  soul;  and 
instead  of  turning  away  sorrowful,  took  up  his  cross 
and  followed  his  Lord.  He  kept  back  no  part  of  the 
price;  he  brought  his  all  and  laid  it  at  the  feet  of  Jesus. 
On  a  character  of  such  moral  excellence,  the  hand  of 
his  Redeemer  placed  the  gift  of  holiness  through  atoning 
blood,  as  "a  crown  of  pure  gold  on  his  head."  In  lay- 
ing the  foundations  of  his  religious  life,  he  digged  deep, 
and  built  upon  the  rock  of  ages.  Quiet,  calm,  and  con- 
scientious, with  his  heart  broken  by  the  sense  of  sin, 
and  his  eye  filled  with  contrition's  tear,  as  we  were 
thrown  together  as  friends,  he  took  my  hand  and  asked 
me  of  Jesus.  The  scene  is  still  fresh  in  my  memory, 
as  though  it  were  yesterday.  I  never  expect  to  meet  a 
case  of  repenting  manhood,  more  interesting  and  beau- 
tiful. While  thus  he  inquired,  there  was  not  the  earth- 
quake, not  the  fire;  it  was  the  still  small  voice;  and 
when  he  heard,  like  the  prophet  veiling  himself  with  his 
mantle,  he  covered  his  face  in  contrition  at  his  Saviour's 
feet,  and  felt  spoken  to  his  soul  the  words,  "Thy  sins 
are  forgiven  thee."  Thus  in  Christ  Jesus,  he  was  a 
new  creature.  All  the  native  excellences  of  his  charac- 
ter were  refined  and  beautified  by  Heavenly  grace ;  like 
a  transparency  or  alabaster  vase  lighted  up  within,  his 
soul  showed  its  former  features  invested  with  new  love- 
liness. 

He  held  the  faith  "  in  simplicity  and  Godly  sincerity." 
He  was  "an  Israelite  in  whom  there  was  no  guile." 
Well  balanced  as  were  his  powers,  he  showed  the  effect 


14 

of  pious  parents  and  pious  education  in  the  clearness, 
harmony,  and  consistency  of  his  views  of  religious  truth 
and  duty.  He  was  not  a  pious  monstrosity  with  a 
religious  affection  or  two  of  gigantic  development  on  a 
spiritual  constitution  otherwise  shrivelled  and  dwarfed. 
He  was  a  symmetrical  christian.  He  was  of  meek  and 
lowly  mind;  a  man  of  steady  and  consistent  religious 
principle.  He  was  not  a  man  who  talked  much  of  his 
religious  affections,  though  delighting  to  sit  humbly  as 
a  learner  at  the  feet  of  those  having  a  deeper  spiritual 
experience.  He  was  not  emotional  and  demonstrative 
in  words.  His  religious  affections,  deep  and  earnest, 
were  shown  rather  by  calm,  quiet  action,  by  embodying 
in  duty  the  principle,  "If  ye  love  me,  keep  my  com- 
mandments." Jno.  14:  15.  He  was  not  above  the 
frailties  of  humanity.  He  was  a  man  of  like  passions 
with  ourselves.  He  had  to  struggle  with  the  infirmities 
of  nature  within,  and  the  trials — fiery  trials  to  a  nature 
so  sensitive  as  his — to  which  the  child  of  God  is  subject 
from  without.  He  knew  from  bitter  experience,  what 
it  meant  by  crucifixion  to  the  world.  Yet  few  christians 
have  passed  through  this  fiery  process,  and  found  so 
seldom  as  he,  the  weakness  of  nature  to  give  way.  In 
the  words  of  Great-heart,  in  the  Pilgrim's  Progress — 
"  We  will  leave  the  good  man,  he  is  at  rest,  he  also  had 
a  brave  victory  over  his  enemy:  let  Him  grant  that 
dwelleth  above,  that  we  fare  not  worse  when  we  come 
to  be  tried,  than  he." 

Shrinking  instinctively  from  seeming  to  be  what  he 
was  not  in  reality,  and  coming  to  the  duties  of  religion 
with  his  natural  conscientiousness  made  more  sensitive 


15 

by  divine  grace,  he  strove  to  walk  in  all  the  command- 
ments and  ordinances  of  the  Lord  blameless.  He  would 
assume  no  responsibility  which  careful  examination  and 
prayer  did  not  satisfy  him  he  was  capable  of  performing 
up  to  the  requirements  of  his  own  elevated  standard. 
The  fact  of  his  undertaking  any  duty  was  a  guarantee 
it  would  be  faithfully  performed.  He  embraced  in  his 
feelings,  efforts,  and  charities,  all  the  benevolent  opera- 
tions of  the  church;  and  gave  to  them  liberally  accord- 
ing to  his  means.  He  was  ready  not  only  for  every  good 
work,  but  for  devising  liberal  things.  He  was  given  to 
hospitality;  and  made  the  ministers  of  Jesus  feel  his 
house  a  home.  He  consecrated  a  due  portion  of  his 
income  to  the  Lord.  No  one  thing  lay  nearer  to  his 
heart  than  that  apostolic  test  of  healthful  piety,  the 
cause  of  missions.  He  had  hardly  a  purer  earthly  hap- 
piness than  in  adding  to  his  information  and  increasing 
his  interest  in  this  apostolic  work,  by  the  grand  testi- 
monials borne  thereto  by  one  who  had  taken  advantage 
of  his  position  as  a  public  man  to  know  the  whole 
truth  from  personal  observation  in  heathen  lands,  to 
vindicate  this  cause  at  home,  and  to  encourage  its 
missionaries  abroad;  one  whom  he  loved  and  mourned 
as  a  brother ;  from  whom  death  separated  him  only  a 
few  short  weeks;  one  whose  memory  we  all  love  to 
cherish  and  honor;  who  must  ever  stand  among  the 
noblest  of  our  patriots,  among  the  foremost  of  our  great 
naval  commanders,  among  the  purest  and  most  accom- 
plished of  our  public  men — best  of  all,  a  true  and  hum- 
ble christian — the  gallant,  the  great,  the  good  Dupont. 
Attached  to  his  own  church  by  preference,  convic- 


16 

tion,  and  education,  with  the  liberality  inseparable 
from  all  elevated  and  noble  souls  taught  by  the  Spirit 
of  God,  he  was  glad  to  feel  that  the  members  of  the 
true  invisible  fold  of  Christ  are  not  confined  to  his  own 
denomination,  and  hail  as  brother  all,  wherever  found, 
in  whom  he  could  trace  the  features  of  his  adored  Lord. 
Intelligence,  steadiness;  consistency,  liberality — all  fused 
and  enlivened  by  love  to  Jesus — were  prominent  in  his 
christian  life.  Some  persons  have  a  piety — like  the 
mountain  torrent,  at  times  overflowing  from  the  passing 
shower,  more  frequently  dry,  dusty,  desolate — now, 
sweeping  and  fiery  in  the  denunciations  of  their  dis- 
tempered zeal;  now,  fallen  away  even  behind  the 
moralities  of  the  world.  His  piety  was  "the  still 
stream  that  waters  fairest  meadows,"  constant,  gentle, 
full,  fed  from  perennial  springs  beyond  the  reach  of 
earth's  surrounding  droughts,  "the  Holy  Spirit  within 
his  soul  as  a  fountain  of  water  springing  up  into  eternal 
life."  His  piety  was  not  like  the  empty  flashes  on  a 
summer  evening  from  the  bosom  of  a  cloud  otherwise 
habitually  in  gloom.  It  was  the  vestal  flame  of  old, 
kindled  from  heaven,  faithfully  tended,  and  ever  burn- 
ing constant,  steady,  and  pure.  Thus  calm  and  clear 
did  the  current  of  his  affections  flow  on  deepening 
toward  Heaven,  until  at  last,  when  over  his  soul  did 
the  day  break  and  the  shadows  flee  away,  his  peace  was 
found  as  a  river  and  his  righteousness  as  the  waves  of 
the  sea.  To  the  last  did  the  love  of  Jesus  leaven  and 
quicken  all  his  duties;  to  the  last,  was  he  "not  slothful 
in  business,  fervent  in  spirit,  serving  the  Lord."  Rom. 
12:  11.     His  last  return  from  duty  was  less  than  two 


17 

hours  before  he  was  caught  up  into  Paradise.  "Blessed 
is  that  servant  whom  his  Lord  when  he  cometh,  shall 
find  so  doing."  Matt.  24:  46. 

"  Servant  of  God,  well  done  ! 
Rest  from  thy  loved  employ  : 
The  battle  fought,  the  victory  won. 
Enter  thy  Master's  joy. 

"  The  cry  at  midnight  came  ; 
He  started  up  to  hear  : 
A  mortal  arrow  pierced  his  frame  ; 
He  fell,  but  felt  no  fear. 

"  His  spirit  with  a  bound, 
Left  its  encumbering  clay : 
His  tent,  at  sunrise,  on  the  ground 
A  darkened  ruin  lay." 

I  have  not  time  to  do  more  than  allude  to  him  as  a 
physician.  None  but  a  person  of  piety  and  a  physician 
can  do  justice  to  his  professional  character.  He  was 
an  active  practitioner  of  medicine  for  more  than  one 
and  forty  years.  He  possessed  the  finest  endowments 
for  the  profession  which  he  adorned.  His  natural  deli- 
cacy, his  almost  womanly  modesty,  his  gentleness,  his 
soothing  voice,  even  his  noiseless  footstep,  his  delicate 
touch  of  the  pulse;  his  quiet,  earnest  sympathy;  his 
quick,  instinctive,  discriminating  apprehension  of  dis- 
ease from  its  earliest,  slightest  indications;  his  gentle 
tact  in  getting,  without  annoyance  to  the  delicacy  of  the 
patient,  the  needed  knowledge  of  symptoms  and  ailment; 
his  cool,  correct  conclusions  drawn  from  this  knowledge 
often  insufficient  and  perplexing — all  pointed  him  out 
as  a  man  rarely  fitted  for  the  sick-room  and  its  ministra- 
tions of  mercy.  Other  physicians  who  may  possess  a 
2 


18 

measure  of  these  endowments,  are  seldom  found  with 
that  which  in  him  gave  all  these  things  their  crowning 
worth,  and  imparted  to  his  qualifications  an  excellence 
seldom  seen,  the  presence  of  that  Spirit  of  "wisdom 
which  is  from  above,  pure,  peaceable,  gentle,  full  of 
mercy."  James  3  :  17.  He  was  an  ornament  to  the 
medical  profession;  he  was  an  ornament  to  the  christian 
church.  He  was  a  physician  of  high  and  rare  endow- 
ments refined  and  elevated  by  true  religion.  Such  men 
ennoble  our  humanity  amid  all  its  common  frailties; 
and  in  their  character,  mankind  may  feel  an  honorable 
pride. 

He  took  a  deep  interest  and  pride  in  all  that  affected 
the  honor  and  advancement  of  his  profession.  He  was 
a  member  of  the  Convention  which  formed  the  National 
Medical  Association  ;  was  chairman  of  the  committee  on 
medical  education;  and  continued  a  member  of  the 
Association,  useful  and  diligent,  till  his  death.  He 
had  by  nature  and  by  culture  the  qualifications  which, 
in  a  field  where  his  talents  could  have  had  wider  scope, 
would  have  placed  him  among  the  most  prominent  men 
of  his  calling.  Few  men  combine,  as  did  himself,  the 
high  qualities  of  the  refined  gentleman,  the  cultivated 
physician,  and  the  humble  christian.  In  his  case,  the 
prophet  was  not  without  honor  in  his  own  country. 
Let  the  households  saved  from  bereavement;  the  pain 
alleviated,  the  sorrow  assuaged,  the  precious  lives  saved 
from  death,  by  his  skill;  the  many  poor  on  whom  his 
labors  were  lavished  without  money  and  without  price; 
the  consternation  felt  in  this  community  at  the  tidings 
of  his  death — let  these  things  tell  his  skill,  his  faithful- 


19 

ness,  his  worth  as  a  physician.  When  his  skill  failed 
in  arresting  disease,  what  other  member  of  his  profes- 
sion succeeded'?  He  not  only  attended  with  conscien- 
tious faithfulness,  but  studied  with  sleepless  interest, 
doubtful  and  difficult  cases.  He  was  a  model  man;  he 
was  a  model  physician;  he  was  a  model  christian.  The 
band  of  professional  brethren  here  gathered  around  him 
to  carry  him  gently  to  his  last  resting-place,  in  heart- 
felt sorrow;  the  christian  friends  come  from  distant 
homes  to  follow  him,  in  the  silence  of  grief,  to  his  sud- 
den tomb;  the  poor  and  the  aged  who  come  with  weep- 
ing eyes  and  tottering  steps  to  take  a  last  look  of  the 
loved  and  honored  dead — these  show  the  hold  he  has 
taken  on  those  who  knew  him  and  were  capable  of 
appreciating  his  worth. 

"When  Faith  and  Love,  which  parted  from  thee  never, 

Had  ripened  thy  just  soul  to  dwell  with  God, 
Meekly  thou  didst  resign  this  earthly  load 

Of  death,  called  life,  which  us  from  life  doth  sever. 
Thy  works,  and  alms,  and  all  thy  good  endeavor, 

Stayed  not  behind,  nor  in  the  grave  were  trod  ; 
But  where  Faith  pointed  with  her  golden  rod. 

Followed  thee  up  to  joy  and  bliss  forever. 
Love  led  them  on,  and  Faith  which  knew  them  best, 

Thy  handmaids,  clothed  them  o'er  with  purple  beams 
And  azure  wings,  that  up  they  flew  thus  dressed, 

And  spake  the  truth  of  thee  on  glorious  themes 
Before  the  Judge,  who  thenceforth  bade  thee  rest, 

And  drink  thy  fill  of  pure,  immortal  streams." 

Here,  as  the  last  words,  may  private  feeling  so  far 
find  utterance,  as  to  thank  our  Father  in  heaven,  that 
one  who  enjoyed,  during  nearly  a  quarter  of  a  century, 
his  confidence  and  friendship,  has  been  brought  by  an 


20 

unseen  hand,  on  a  pilgrimage  from  the  ends  of  the 
earth,  to  bear  this  testimony  of  truth,  and  lay  this 
broken  chain,  this  wreath  of  affection,  wet  with  many 
tears,  on  his  grave. 


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